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THE RADIO DETECTIVES 
UNDER THE SEA 


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By A. HYATT VERRILL 

V 

THE RADIO DETECTIVES 

THE RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER 
THE SEA 

THE RADIO DETECTIVES 
SOUTHWARD BOUND 

THE RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE 
JUNGLE 

THE DEEP SEA HUNTERS 
THE BOOK OF THE MOTOR BOAT 
ISLES OF SPICE AND PALM 


200 C 




THE CIRCLE OF ONLOOKERS FLED IN EVERY DIRECTION. 


[page 217] 



THE RADIO DETECTIVES 
UNDER THE SEA 


BY 

A. HYATT VERRILL 

AUTHOR OF "THE RADIO DETECTIVES,” "THE RADIO DETECTIVES 
SOUTHWARD BOUND,” THE RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE 
JUNGLE,” "THE DEEP SEA HUNTERS,” ETC. 




D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 

NEW YORK : : 1922 : ; LONDON 



' 


COPYRIGHT. 1922, BY 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 



FEINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AlfflBIOA 

WG -7 1922 


©Ci.A881549 


CONTENTS 


OHAPTEB PAGE 

I. In the Bahamas 1 

II. A Mysterious Disappearance 19 

III. Surprises 35 

IV. Radio Magic 56 

V. A Narrow Escape 84 

VI. On the Trail of the Submarine .... 102 

VII. The Fight with the Octopus 129 

VIII. Lost 150 

JX. Prisoners . 176 

X. Radio to the Rescue 197 

XI. The Devil Dancers ........ 212 

XII. Smernoff Pays His Debt 230 


XIII. The Tramp 


255 



\ 


THE RADIO DETECTIVES 
UNDER THE SEA 


CHAPTER I 
IN THE BAHAMAS 

O H, look, Tom! There’s land!” cried Frank 
Putney as, coming on deck one beautiful 
morning, he glanced across the shimmering 
sea and saw a low cloud-like speck upon the horizon 
ahead. 

“Hurrah! it must be the Bahamas,” exclaimed Tom 
Pauling, as he saw the first bit of land they had sighted 
since leaving New York three days previously. 
“Say, isn’t it bully to see land again? And isn’t this 
water wonderful?” 

To the two boys, the short sea trip had been a 
constant source of interest, for while they had both 
been on ocean-going steamships before and Frank 
had crossed the Atlantic, yet neither had ever visited 

the tropics. The glistening flying fish which had 
1 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


skittered like miniature sea-planes from xmder the 
plunging bows of the ship had filled them with delight; 
they had fished up bits of the floating yellow sargas- 
sum or Gulf Weed and had examined with fascination 
the innumerable strange crabs, fishes and other crea- 
tures that made it their home; they had watched 
porpoises as they played about the ship and they had 
even caught a brief glimpse of a sperm whale. 

The wonderfully rich indigo-blue water of the 
Gulf Stream was a revelation to them and now that 
they were rapidly approaching the outlying cays of 
the Bahamas, with the surrounding water malachite 
and turquoise, emerald and sapphire with patches 
of dazzling purple and streaks of azure they could 
scarcely believe it real. 

“It doesn’t look like water at all,” declared Tom, 
as his father joined them. 

“It looks like — ^well, like one of those futurist 
paintings or as if some one had spilled a lot of the 
brightest blue and green paint he could find and had 
slapped on a lot of purple for good measure.” 

Mr. Pauling laughed. “That’s accurate if not 
poetical,” he replied, “and you’ll find, when you go 
ashore, that the imaginary man with the paint pot 
2 


IN THE BAHAMAS 


did not stop at the water. The land is just as gaudy 
and incredibly bright as the sea.” 

“Is that Nassau ahead?” asked Tom. 

“No, that’s a small cay,” replied one of the officers 
who had drawn near the little group, “Egg Cay they 
call it. We’ll raise Rose Cay next and should sight 
New Providence and Nassau about two o’clock. 
Pretty, isn’t it?” 

So intensely interested and excited were the two 
boys that they could scarcely wait to eat their break- 
fast before they again rushed on deck to find the little 
islet close to the ship, its cream-colored beaches and 
purplish-gray coral rocks clear and distinct above 
the marvelously tinted water edged by a thread of 
surf and with a few straggling palm trees nodding 
above the low, dull-green bush which covered the 
cay. 

But to the boys, there were more reasons for being 
interested and excited than the mere fact that they 
were gazing for the first time at a tropical island or 
were about to visit a strange land. They were on an 
exciting and strange trip, a remarkable mission for 
two boys and one which promised an abundance of 
adventure. 


3 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


Like so many boys, they had become interested in 
radio and during their experiments with various sets 
had heard peculiar messages from some unidentified 
speaker. With their curiosity aroused, they had 
tried, merely for the fun of the thing, to locate the 
sending station by means of loop aerials or radio 
compasses. 0 

Having decided that the voice came from a 
certain block on the East Side of New York, they 
had reported their discovery to Mr. Henderson, a 
federal employee and an associate of Tom’s father, 
for their boyish imaginations had been fired with the 
idea that the speaker was a lawbreaker associated 
with a gang of rum smugglers whom Mr. Pauling 
was endeavoring to run down. But when a search 
of the block by Mr. Henderson’s men failed to reveal 
any trace of a radio outfit the boys had lost interest 
in the matter. 

Then, when Mr. Pauling had returned from a 
mission- to the Bahamas and Cuba, he had told 
the boys of a young man named Rawlins who had 
devised a remarkable type of diving suit which re- 
quired no life line or air hose, the oxygen for the 
diver to breathe being produced by means of certain 
4 


IN THE BAHAMAS 


chemicals. Mr. Pauling had mentioned that the in- 
ventor of the suit had stated that its one fault was 
that the user could not communicate with those on 
a ship or on shore and Tom, his mind ever on his 
favorite hobby, had suggested that radio might be 
used. Later, when Rawlins met the boys in New 
York and Tom told him his ideas, the diver fell in 
with the scheme and declared that he believed it 
would be feasible to make a radio telephone appara- 
tus which could be used under water. 

Fitting up his father’s dock on the East River front 
as a workshop and laboratory, Rawlins and the boys 
worked diligently at Tom’s invention and at last suc- 
ceeded in devising a radio set with which the diver 
could talk freely and easily with people on shore or 
with others under the sea. 

While . trying out the device Tom and Raw- 
lins discovered two other divers whose actions 
were suspicious, and watching them, were amazed to 
see the men enter an old disused sewer. Following 
them into the sewer Tom and his companion were 
startled at hearing a conversation in some foreign 
tongue and Rawlins insisted it came from the other 
divers and that they too possessed undersea radio 
5 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


telephones. Hiding in the shadows the two saw the 
strangers standing under a trap-door into which they 
disappeared, taking with them a mysterious, cigar- 
shaped, metal object like a torpedo. 

A little later, as Tom and Rawlins were about to 
return to their own dock, they again saw the men and 
following them were thunderstruck to discover that 
they were about to enter a submarine lying at the 
bottom of the river. Curious to find out more about 
the undersea craft, Rawlins approached it and was 
suddenly attacked by the two men. Tom uncon- 
sciously screamed and at the sound Frank, who was 
anxiously waiting at the receiver on shore, asked what 
was wrong. Suddenly, realizing that he was in 
touch with his friends,, Tom called for help asking 
Frank to send for the police. At his cries the sub- 
marine quickly got under way, deserting the two 
strange divers who, seeing their craft had left, sur- 
rendered to Rawlins. 

In his excitement one of the men had been careless 
and as a result the chemicals in his suit had flamed 
up at the touch of water and the man had been seri- 
ously injured. With the captured diver, Tom and 
Rawlins had made their way to the dock, carrying 
6 


IN THE BAHAMAS 


the wounded man and had arrived just as Mr. Paul- 
ing with Mr. Henderson and the police arrived. 
Tom had fainted from strain and excitement and 
when he recovered consciousness found that the cap- 
tive had been recognized as a dangerous escaped 
criminal, a Russian ^‘red” and that the other man was 
at the point of death. 

Mr. Pauling, having heard Rawlins’ tale, sus- 
pected a connection between the deserted sewer, 
the strange divers, the submarine and the mysterious 
messages the boys had heard and at once sent 
the police to surround the block and search the 
buildings. As a result of the raid, a garage had been 
found with a secret passage connecting with the sewer 
and in which were stored vast quantities of liquor, 
contraband goods, Bolshevist propaganda and loot 
taken from hold-ups and robberies in New York. 

Feeling that they had stumbled upon the key to a 
wave of crime and ‘‘red” literature which had been 
sweeping the country, Mr. Henderson questioned the 
captive, Smernoff, who confirmed the suspicions and 
confessed that the submarine had been used for 
smuggling liquor and other contraband into the 
United States and taking the ill-gotten loot out and 
7 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


that the contraband had been picked up by the sub- 
sea boat in mid ocean at spots where it had been 
dumped overboard from sailing vessels by previous 
arrangements. 

He insisted, however, that he knew nothing of the 
[headquarters of the gang or of their leader whom 
Henderson and his associates believed was a master 
criminal, an unscrupulous, fiendish character who, 
during the war, had undertaken to destroy the 
Leviathan, Brooklyn Bridge, the Navy Yard and 
many buildings as well as thousands of people in 
America and England, but who, failing in this, dared 
not return to Germany. The government officials felt 
confident that this same master mind was responsible 
for the wave of crime, the flood of Bolshevist litera- 
ture and die threatening letters which had baffled 
them. 

Mr. Pauling and Mr. Henderson were also most 
anxious to secure, a statement from the other man, who 
was still unconscious in the hospital, and when at last 
he was able to speak Mr. Pauling hurried to his side. 
The dying man, thinking that his comrades had be- 
trayed him, related an astounding story, admitted the 
existence of the master criminal and was on the 


( 


IN THE BAHAMAS 


point of revealing his headquarters when he died. 

At almost the same time word was received that the 
submarine had been picked up, drifting at sea, by a 
destroyer despatched to find her, but that she was ab- 
solutely deserted. When at last she was towed into 
New York and was examined by Mr. Pauling, Raw- 
lins and the boys she was found stripped of every- 
thing which would have tlfrown light upon the mys- 
tery. Questioning the crew of the destroyer, Rawlins 
discovered that a fishing schooner had been sighted 
near the drifting submarine and from the description 
he recognized it as a Bahaman vessel and jumped to 
the conclusion that the crew of the submarine had 
transhipped to it. 

Believing that he could locate the headquarters of 
the plotters, Rawlins suggested that he and the boys 
should go to the West Indies and, after some objeo' 
tions had been overcome, this plan had been agreed 
to by Tom’s father. Thus it came about that the 
two boys were now upon a steamer’s deck as she 
churned her way through the intensely blue sea to- 
wards the palm-fringed islands beyond her bows. 

“I wonder when Rawlins will get here with that 
sub,” remarked Mr. Henderson. 

9 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


“Not for several days yet, I imagine,” replied Mr. 
Pauling. “There was a lot of work to be done upon 
her and she cannot make much over fifteen knots on 
a long cruise. I’m personally more anxious to hear 
from the destroyers tliat are chasing the schooner. 
I wonder if Rawlins was right in his surmise regard- 
ing her.” 

“We should hear from them soon after we reach 
Nassau,” declared the other. “We left three days 
after the destroyers and that schooner certainly 
could not beat the destroyers to the islands or evade 
them. I don’t think there’s the least question about 
their overhauling her.” 

“Say, won’t it be great if they do catch her,” ex- 
claimed Tom, “and find the crew of the submarine 
aboard.” 

“Yes, but it’s very evident they have not even 
sighted her as yet,” replied his father. “If theyiiad 
we would have received a radio.” 

“Perhaps they’re out of range of communication,” 
suggested Mr. Henderson. 

“Oh, no,” Tom assured him. “The operator says 
all those naval vessels can send for several hundred 
miles and the weather’s been fine — ^no static to speak 
10 


IN THE BAHAMAS 


of. We were talking to a Porto Rico liner this morn- 
ing.” 

‘T hope you haven’t given away any information 
in your enthusiasm over radio,” remarked his father. 
“Remember we don’t want any one — not even ‘Sparks’ 
• — ^to have the least inkling of our purpose or plans 
Always bear in mind the famous Spanish proverb that 
‘a secret between two is God’s secret but a secret be- 
tween three is everybody’s.’ ” 

“You needn’t worry about us, Dad,” Tom assured 
him, “we haven’t breathed a word — ^not even about 
our under-sea radio, although we were just wild to 
tell about it. You know our motto is ‘see everything, 
hear everything and say nothing.’ ” 

“Stick to that and you’ll be a credit to the Service,” 
laughed his father as he and Mr. Henderson moved 
away. 

Tom and Frank soon forgot all about radio or the 
chances of the swift destroyers overtaking the 
schooner in the many interesting sights about: the 
long-tailed graceful tropical birds whose snowy breasts 
appeared a delicate sea-green from the sunlight re- 
flected through the clear water by the white sandy 
bottom of the sea; the bigger Booby gannets that kept 
11 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


pace with the ship, seeming to float without effort just 
above the rails, and that kept turning their china-blue 
eyes with a curious stare upon the boys; the big, 
clumsy pelicans that, in single file, flapped along a 
few inches above the sea, rising and falling in unison 
with the waves and now and again plunging suddenly 
with a tremendous splash into the water as their sharp 
eyes spied schools small fish. All these were new 
and strange to the boys and once they caught a 
glimpse of a V-shaped line of twinkling red dots 
against the blue sky which one of the officers assured 
them was a flock of flamingoes. 

“Gosh!” exclaimed Tom suddenly. “Say, just 
look there, Frank! See, down there between the 
waves — Fm dead sure I saw the bottom!” 

The officer chuckled. “Of course you did!” he 
assured Tom. “Why not? You can see bottom at 
ten fathoms down here anywheres. Water’s as clear 
as glass. Why, when you get to Nassau you can look 
down and see the sea-fans and corals and marine 
growths perfectly plainly — sea-gardens the Conchs, 
call ’em — regular places for tourists to go. And 
you can sit on the dock and fish and watch the fool 
fishes nibbling at your bait — red and blue and yel- 
12 


IN THE BAHAMAS 


low and every color of the rainbow. Then, when you 
see one that suits your fancy you can just yank him 
up — great thing this being able to pick your fish!” 

The boys looked at him half suspiciously. “Say,” 
exclaimed Frank, ‘‘are you trying to kid us?” 

“Not a bit erf it,” replied the purser. “Just wait 
and see. Why, if I told you half the truth about 
such things you’d swear I was lying.” 

“Golly!” ejaculated Tom. “Wouldn’t it be fine to 
go down in a diving suit in such water. I don’t 
wonder that R — ” Tom- checked himself just in time 
and asked, “But what do you mean by saying the 
‘Conchs’ call the places sea gardens?” 

The purser laughed. “Oh, I forgot you’d never 
been down here,” he said. “Conchs is the local 
name for the Bahamans. Guess it’s because they’re 
always diving for conchs or maybe because they’re 
as much at home under water as on land. Greatest 
divers in the world; fact. I’ve seen ’em diving for 
sponge and coral many a time and when we get to 
Nassau this afternoon you’ll see about ten thousand 
naked nigger boys crowding about, begging you to 
toss pennies to ’em so they can dive and catch them. 
Little beggars can grab a coin long before it 
13 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


gets to the bottom and if you toss a penny off one side 
of the ship they’ll dive off the other, swim under the 
keel and get the coin before it reaches bottom. And 
speaking of diving — say, this is the real home and 
headquarters of that. Met a chap down here last 
winter — Rawlins is his name — ^was taking a lot of 
movies under water, fact. Had ,a new-fangled sort of 
suit that didn’t have ropes or hose or anything and 
just plumped overboard as easy as is and wandered 
around making friends with the fishes.” 

The boys nudged each other and winked. “Oh, 
now you are kidding us!” said Tom. “How could a 
fellow go down without air and how could he take 
movies under the sea? That’s too big even for us to 
swallow.” 

“Fact, just the same,” the other declared. “Had 
some sort of gadget fixed up on his suit to make air 
and he took the movies in a big steel room or chamber 
at the end of* a jointed, water-tight pipe — had electric 
lights and everything in it. Sure thing and no fool- 
ing. Saw some of the pictures up in New York too. 
Yep, one of ’em was called ‘Drowned Gold’ or some- 
thing of the sort — story of a treasure under the sea — 
gathered in by Huns in a submarine and cached in an 
14 


IN THE BAHAMAS 


old wreck. Rattling good picture too! Say, you 
boys want to see his place — got a regular studio 
here. I don’t think Rawlins is here though.” 

“That would be interesting,” agreed Frank. “I’d 
love to go down in a diving suit and walk about on the 
bottom. Don’t the fish and things ever trouble him?” 

“No,” responded the purser, “even sharks keep off 
— only danger’s in devil fish — octopus, you know. 
They grow mighty big hereabouts and are likely to 
grab anything. Rawlins was making one picture 
of a whopping big octopus fighting with a diver — 
fake devil fish made out of rubber, but natural as is. 
Don’t know how it turned out but I tell you I’m not 
keen on running foul of any of the real thing. 
And speaking of sharks — say, here’s a fact that you 
boys will think’s a whopper. Niggers down here dive 
in right among the sharks — carry a long knife in their 
teeth — and grab hold of a shark’s fin and knife him, 
fact!” 

“Well, you can’t tell any yarn bigger than that!” 
laughed Frank. “Imagine a man tackling a shark 
under water! Oh come, you must think we’re easy!” 

“Well, just wait and see,” replied the purser, “but 
I’ll have to be running along. There’s New Prov- 
15 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


idence ahead — weTl be getting into port within the 
next hour.” 

“Gosh, he’s some talker!” exclaimed Tom with a 
laugh when the loquacious officer had left. “And 
wasn’t it rich — ^his telling us about Rawlins and the 
suits and never guessing we knew him or had been 
down in those suits ourselves! Say, I’m beginning 
to think there’s a lot of fun in being Secret Service 
people. It’s sport listening to folks telling all they 
know about a thing that you know more about and 
they never guessing it.” 

“Yes,” agreed Frank,, “and I can understand now 
how detectives and Secret Service men find out so 
much without any one suspecting them. They just 
start a conversation and then let the other fellows do 
the talking and pick up a lot of information. But 
that was rich about the sharks!” 

“And the devil fish too!” added Tom. “Wonder 
if there is any danger from being attacked by an 
octopus. Say, if there is that’s where our undersea 
radio would come in mighty fine.” 

But whether or not the purser’s tales were true in 
regard to the sharks and octopus the boys soon dis- 
covered that he had not in the least exaggerated the 
clarity of the water or the skill of the native diving 
16 


IN THE BAHAMAS 

boys when their ship steamed slowly into Nassau 
harbor. 

It was all so wonderfully fascinating and beautiful 
that the boys kept constantly uttering exclamations of 
surprise and delight. Never had they dreamed that 
there could be such vivid colors anywhere in the 
world. The sky, so blue it resembled a dense solid 
dome of blue silk; the water, ultramarine, emerald 
and turquoise streaked with gold and purple; the 
vivid green foliage with masses of scarlet hibiscus 
and flaming poinciana trees; the glaring, snow- 
white coral streets; the pink, blue, green, yellow, 
and lavender houses with their red roofs and 
green shutters; the bright-hued orange and red 
bandannas and gleaming costumes of the negro 
women crowding the dock; the lofty nodding 
palm trees above the beaches and looming like 
gigantic feather dusters above the buildings; the 
crimson and blue flags of England flying everywhere; 
the scarlet tunics of strolling soldiers from the 
garrison; the little shore boats bobbing upon the 
water and painted every color of the rainbow and 
scores of sponging and fishing smacks as brilliant in 
hues as the smaller craft, all combined to form a 
kaleidoscopic picture of gaudy tints and blazing 
17 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


colors such as can be found only in the tropic islands 
of the Caribbean. But all these sights were of less in- 
terest to Tom and Frank than the naked black, brown 
and yellow diving boys who paddled about the ship in 
crude home-made boats, formed from discarded pack- 
ing cases, or straddled lengths of bamboo and with 
grinning faces and rolling eyes begged the passengers 
to throw coins into the water exactly as the purser had 
described. And when Tom and Frank tossed shining 
nickels into the sea and the score of black bodies left 
the makeshift boats as one, the two American boys 
burst into roars of merriment. 

‘‘Gosh, they’re just like a lot of black frogs!” cried 
Tom. “And just look at them, Frank! See them! 
Look there! They’re after those nickels and you can 
see them as plain as if they were under glass! There! 
Look ! One of them’s got a coin ! And see how funny 
the pink soles of their feet look! Say, it’s wonderful!” 

For the next half hour the diving boys reaped a rich 
harvest of small coins and then, the customs and port 
doctor’s men having completed their inspection, Tom 
and Frank followed Mr. Pauling down the gangway 
and a few moments later stood upon the first West 
Indian island they had ever visited. 

\ 18 


CHAPTER II 


A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE 

F or the first few days of their stay in Nassau 
the boys found plenty to amuse them. 
They rowed out in a bright-hued rowboat 
with a glass set in the bottom and gazed at the famed 
‘‘sea gardens” and found them even more wonderful 
than the ship’s purser had described. They clam- 
bered over the ancient forts Williams and George; 
they bathed, swam and fished to their hearts’ content 
and they visited the sponge docks where the speedy 
little schooners and sloops with their grinning black 
crews brought their catch of sponges to barter and 
trade. 

The huge turtles, lying on their backs upon the 
decks of fishing boats, weare a novelty to the boys and 
they were absolutely fascinated by the rainbow-tinted 
fish that swarmed in the waters and were sold in the 
market. And they learned many new and interesting 
19 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


things also. They had seen the bleached white corals 
in museums and saw the same everywhere for sale in 
Nassau; and the first time they visited the sea gar- 
dens and gazed down through the crystal clear water 
they were surprised that no corals were visible. 

There were huge sea-fans — purple and golden 
brown, long, black sea-rods, brown and purple sea 
plumes, huge dull-orange and maroon starfish, innu- 
merable sea. anemones with immensely long and 
bright-colored tentacles and everywhere red, pink, 
yellow, blue and particolored fish, like some sort of 
exotic butterflies, flitting lazily among the marine 
growths. But not a white coral was visible. Great 
rounded mounds of orange, bits of scarlet, masses of 
green and lavender, of old rose and soft fawn brown 
were cluttered upon the bottom, but in vain the boys 
sought for the massive brain corals and graceful 
branched corals they knew so well. 

‘‘Well I don’t see any corals,” declared Tom after 
he had gazed at the multicolored objects upon the 
ocean bottom for some time. “It’s pretty, but I 
thought corals grew everywhere down here.” 

The black boatmen chuckled. “Beggin’ yo’ par- 
don, Qiief,” he remarked, “tha’s plenty coral down 
20 


A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE 


tha’. Chief. Yaas, sir, all erbout. Doan’ yo’ 
di’sam ’em, Chief?” 

“No,” replied Tom, “I can’t see a single white 
thing there — all I see are bright colored weeds and 
sea-fans and rocks.” 

The negro looked genuinely surprised. “Bless yo’ 
soul!” he exclaimed. “Yo’ cawnt be a s’archin’ fo’ 
white coral is yo’? White coral’s jus’ dead coral. 
Chief. Tha’s da culmination o’ tha’ manner o’ it’s 
prep’ration. Chief. Yaas, sir, all tha’ objec’s yo’ 
di’sarn growin’ down to tha’ bottom is corals. Chief. 
Yaas, sir, some of tha’ kin’s is yellow an’ some red 
an’ some green.” 

It was the boys’ turn to be surprised. “Why, you 
don’t mean all those things like stones covered with 
bright-colored weeds are coral!” exclaimed Frank 
incredulously. 

“Yaas, sir. Chief,” the negro assured him. “Ah’ll 
demonstrate it to yo’ entire satisfaction. Chief.” 

As he spoke, the half-naked negro stood up in the 
little craft and before the astonished boys realized 
what he was about to do he had plunged into the clear 
water and the boys watched in wonder as they saw him 
swimming easily straight towards the bottom, a little 
21 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


string of bubbles rising from him and the pink soles 
of his feet flashing strangely. In an instant he had 
reached the masses of growth on the sea floor and the 
hoys saw him pulling and working at a projecting 
ledge of vivid violet and green. Then he turned and 
shot up to the surface like a flash. As he broke 
through the water he tossed a large lump of brilliant 
material into the boat and clambered over the stem. 

Interestedly the boys examined what he had 
brought and to their absolute amazement discovered 
that it really was coral, but as the man explained, com- 
pletely concealed under the fleshy covering of the 
animals which resembled tiny sea anemones of won- 
derful tints. 

But after their first momentary surprise and in- 
terest at the discovery the two boys found much more 
to attract them in the denizens of the mass of coral 
than in the coral itself. Odd red and white crabs 
emerged from their hiding places, a tiny fish that 
glittered with the dazzling hues of a fire opal flapped 
from under a bit of adhering seaweed, funny slug- 
like molluscs of intense blue and gold crawled about 
the mass, queer little snails were everywhere and 
when the boys disturbed the coral or handled it they 
22 


A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE 

heard odd snapping noises like liliputian fire- 
cradkers. 

For a time this puzzled them until Frank 
discovered to his intense delight that the sounds were 
made by tiny lobster-like crustaceans that dwelt in 
holes in the hard coral and viciously snapped their 
claws when disturbed. 

“Say,” asked Tom presently, “weren’t you afraid 
of a devil fish — octopus, you know — down there?” 

“Bless your soul, no. Chief!” grinned the negro. 
“Tha’ fellow doan’ never humbug us. We eats 
them down here. Chief.” 

“Eat them!” exclaimed Frank in surprise. “Gee! 
I’d hate to eat the slimy things. But I thought they 
attacked divers, pulled them down with their tentacles 
and killed them.” 

“No, sir!” declared the boatman. “Tha’s jus’ 
foolishness. ’Cose a big fellow might humbug a 
diver, but Ah ne’er knew o’ such a happenin’ an’ Ah 
was spongin’ fo’ ten years an’ mo’.” Then a broad 
grin spread over the man’s face and he shook silently 
as though laughing to himself over some amusing 
memory. “Yaas, sir,” he went on. “Come to take 
consideration o’ the matter Ah did know o’ one o’ 
23 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


.iia’ fellows makin’ to fight with a diver. Yaas, sir, 
a almighty big fellow — jes erbout three fathoms 
across he was, Chief. Yaas, sir, he went fo’ to make 
trouble with Mr. Rawlins, Chief, jus’ fo’ to ’commo- 
date the picture, but tha’ one was a tame orctopus — 
made out o’ rubber an’ springs fo’ the occasion. 
Chief.” 

“Oh, yes, we heard about that,” said Tom, “but do 
you know Mr. Rawlins?” 

“Bless yo’ soul, yaas, sir,” the negro assured him. 

’Cose Ah knows M»r. Rawlins, ev’yone here knows 
he. Why, Ah been wo’kin fo’ Mister Rawlins fo’ 
mos’ two years. Chief. Does yo’ know he too. 
Chief?” 

“Oh, slightly,” replied Frank casually, realizing 
that they had not adhered strictly to their motto. 
“But how about sharks? Don’t they attack people 
in the water?” 

The darky fairly guffawed with merriment. 
“Ah speculate some folks been a yarnin’ to yo’,” he 
declared. “Yaas, sir, das’ it. Sharks! Lord 
a’mighty ’cose tha’s sharks plenty hereabouts, but no 
one don’ make no flust’ration ’bout those fellows, no, 
sir! Why, Lawd bless yo’ soul. Chief, we Conchs 
24 


A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE 


goes down an’ kills sharks weselves. Yaas, sir, jus’ 
take p, knife erlong an’ cotches hoi’ o’ a fin an’ slashes 
of them.” 

“Gosh! then it’s true after all!” cried Tom. “The 
purser on the ship told us that, but we wouldn’t be- 
lieve it.” 

But despite the boys’ desire to see a shark and their 
boatman’s promise to demonstrate the fact that it is 
an easy matter to kill a ten-foot man-eater single- 
handed in his native element, none of the sea tigers 
presented themselves for the sake of the exhibition. 

“Tha’ don’ is such a plenty o’ sha’ks roun’ here 
’bout as tha’ was,” the boatman informed them when 
the boys expressed their surprise at seeing no sharks 
in waters which they had imagined teemed with them. 

“Yo’ see tha’ tourists an’ folks what comes here- 
’bout cotches he an’ shoots at he an’ causes such a 
flustration ’mongst ’em tha’s mos’ all scared away. 
Chief. Yaas, sir, I ’spec’ if yo’ wants to see sha’ks 
yo’ll bes’ take a cruise ’board one of tha’ spongers. 
Tha’s plenty o’ sha’ks roun’ erbout tha’ cays an’ the 
sponging grounds.” 

But the boys did see an octopus or “sea cat” as the 
natives call them. As they were returning to Nassau 
25 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


they passed a fishing boat and going alongside to see 
what the men had caught they were shown one of the 
devil fishes which had just been- hauled up from its 
home on the ocean floor. It was not a large speci- 
men — ^barely five feet across its outstretched tenacles, 
but as it writhed and squirmed upon the sloop’s deck 
the boys shuddered at its sucker-covered, snake-like 
arms, its hideous pulpy body and its cold, cruel, lid- 
less, unwinking and baleful eyes. 

“Gosh! how can any one eat such things!” ex- 
claimed Tom. 

“And say, just imagine being tackled by such an 
awful beast down under the sea!” added Frank. 
“I’d die of pure fright, I believe.” 

Little did the boys realize that they would have a 
chance to test their sensations under such circum- 
stances and little did they know that the delicious, 
thick, stew-like soup which they had enjoyed so much 
was made from the repulsive octopus. 

When the boys reached Nassau they found a 
trim little gray destroyer anchored off the town 
and the American flag, flapping gently in the 
breeze at her stem, left no doubt as to her nation- 
ality. 


26 


A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE 


“Oh, say!” cried Frank. “There she is! Ceei 
why weren’t we here when she came in?” 

“May not be,” declared Tom. “Lots of American 
destroyers drop in here and we won’t miss anything 
anyhow. The boat’s only reaching the dock now. 
She must have just come in.” 

By the time the boys stepped ashore the officer from 
the destroyer’s boat had entered a rattle-trap carriage 
and had driven away, while about the white-clad blue- 
jackets in the waiting cutter were crowds of blacks, 
laughing and jabbering and striving to sell the sailors 
everything from seed necklaces and bits of coral to 
pineapples and mangoes. 

As they pushed through the close-packed, brightly- 
garbed throng the boys caught a glimpse of one 
broad-shouldered sailor who was arguing over a 
bunch of bananas with an immensely fat colored 
woman and instantly they recognized him. 

“Say, ’tis the destroyer,” exclaimed Tom. “Look, 
there’s the bosun’s mate who told us about the 
schooner. Gee, I wonder if they got her!” 

Hailing a carriage, for they were too eager to hear 
the news to walk, the two boys were driven quickly to 
their hotel and hurrying to their rooms found Mr. 

27 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


Pauling and Mr. Henderson talking with an officer 
in a commander’s uniform. 

t “Hello, just in time, boys!” exclaimed Mr. Paul- 
ing as the two appeared. “Commander West just 
got in and was about to give us the news.” 

“I’m sorry it’s not very good news,” said the officer. 
“In fact no news at all — as far as results are con- 
cerned. We sighted the schooner just north of Wat- 
ling’s island and signaled her to heave to, but she did 
not pay the least attention. We couldn’t send a shot 
after her, you know — serious matter to fire on or near 
a vessel on the high seas, and she was flying the 
British flag. Before we could come alongside she 
slipped in between the reefs and we had to slow down 
and feel our way — dangerous channels those between 
the coral, you know — and by the time we rounded the 
next cay she’d completely disappeared. Strangest 
thing I’ve ever seen. Not a trace of her, if she’d sunk 
with all on board she could not have vanished more 
mysteriously. Of course we supposed that she’d 
slipped into some little bay or cove where we couldn’t 
follow so we anchored and sent our boats off. They 
ran around every cay and island within sight, but not 
a sign of that blessed packet. It gets me, I admit.” 

28 


A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE 

“H-m-m!” muttered Mr. Henderson. “Sort of 
phantom ship, eh? Was it possible she slipped away 
behind the islands while you were getting through 
the reefs?” 

“Don’t see how she could,” replied Commander 
West. “Her topmasts would have shown up some- 
wheres. No, she must have got into some land- 
locked bay that our men missed — ^hard thing to see 
some of those with the fringe of palms along the 
outer beach hiding the entrance, you know. Well, to 
continue. We decided to search every cay the next 
morning — it was pretty near dark then — and we did, 
but not a sign. Then we gave up and were cruising 
about, thinking she’d slipped out during the night and 
we might pick her up and the next day what do you 
think? Why we got a radio from Haverstraw of the 
Porter saying they’d sighted her over by the Caicos 
and that she gave him the slip among the reefs the 
same way. He had a little better luck though. 
Found her all right.” 

“Hurrah!” shouted Tom as the commander hesi- 
tated. “Did they get the men?” 

“They found her, as I said,” continued the officer, 
29 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 

‘‘anchored off one of the cays and — absolutely de- 
serted!” 

“Jove!” exclaimed Mr. Henderson. “Deserted! 
Confound those fellows. They seem to have a habit 
of deserting their ships! First the submarine and 
now the schooner. Did Lieutenant Haverstraw find 
anything on -her?” 

“Nothing suspicious,” replied the commander. 
“To all intents and purposes she was merely a fishing 
smack. Didn’t even have a wireless aboard. He 
might have towed her to port as a derelict, but he 
radioed for advice and ‘I told him to leave hfer. If 
he’d brought her in there might have been too many 
questions asked — Admiralty investigation and all — 
these Britishers are just as particular about a smack 
as a liner when it comes to maritime law, you know, 
and they have a blamed uncomfortable way of ask- 
ing too many questions sometimes. Of course I 
realize that the two governments would straighten it 
out and keep matters quiet, but the local authorities 
might not and she’s just as well off there as here as 
far as I can see.” 

“Yes, no need of arousing curiosity,” agreed Mr. 

30 


A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE 


Pauling. ‘‘Did you search the islands near her to 
see if the men had gone ashore?” 

“Haverstraw tells me he even looked inside the 
conch shells on the beach,” replied the officer with a 
laugh. “Says if he finds another abandoned ship 
he’ll resign — getting on his nerves. He’s the one 
who picked up the submarine, you know. However, 
I’m sailing for the Caicos this evening — if those men 
are on any of the cays or took to another vessel we’U 
find them.” 

“Oh, I’ve an idea!” exclaimed Tom who had been 
thinking rapidly. “If those fellows on the sub- 
marine deserted her and took to the schooner as we 
thought, perhaps they left the schooner and went to 
a submarine.” 

“Well, I’ll be ” began Mr. Henderson. “Why 

in thunder haven’t we thought of that before? What 
did I tell you, Pauling? Didn’t I say these boys 
would give us old hands some new ideas? Jove! 
I’ll wager that is the solution. Probably knew where 
the sub was waiting and made for it. Had her ready 
for just such an emergency.” 

“That may be it,” admitted Commander West, “but 
if ’trs where in the name of the Great Horn Spoon 
31 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


do they get the subs? They’re pretty darned ex- 
pensive little toys, you know, and a chap can’t buy or 
build one the way he can a skiff. Seems to me some 
one would have known if there were mysterious sub- 
marines knocking about.” 

‘‘It is a mystery,” agreed Mr. Pauling, “but the 
whole affair has been full of mystery. I think, how- 
ever, there may be a simple solution to this one. If 
we assume that the head of the organization is whom 
we suspect it to be he might well have obtained Ger- 
man U-boats. We must remember that in his ori- 
ginal undertaking he possessed unlimited means and 
almost unlimited authority and had the confidence of 
the Prussian government. Is it not possible or even 
probable that he had several sub-sea craft on this 
side of the Atlantic — we know he made use of one in 
his nefarious scheme — and that with the failure of 
his plans and the collapse of Germany he appro^ 
priated the subs for his own private designs? The 
crews in fact might have joined with him — ^we have 
proof that some of those on the captured U-boat were 
formerly in the German navy and if he has a se- 
cret headquarters down here is it likely he would risk 
all on one submarine?” 


32 


A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE 


‘‘I imagine your theory is very nearly correct,” re- 
plied Mr. Henderson. “If so, there is little use in 
attempting to accomplish anything until Rawlins ar- 
rives. When should he be here. Commander?” 

“That’s hard to say,” replied the officer. “We had 
a code message several days ago to the effect that she 
had completed refitting and was expected to sail any 
time. If she left the following day — let’s see, that 
was last Friday — she might be at her rendezvous by 
day after to-morrow — Thursday. I sho*uld hardly 
expect her before then. But Disbrow is posted near 
there and will undoubtedly notify you the moment 
she is sighted. You know the plan was for Rawlins 
to signal our ship about thirty miles off the island 
and then run submerged to avoid any possibility of 
being seen. Then Disbrow will radio you — Rawlins’ 
outfit might not reach you and a simple and innocent- 
appearing message from Disbrow would excite no 
comment. Well, I must be getting off. If we stay 
here too long these Conchs will wonder why we’re 
here. I gave out wer just dropped in for fresh vege- 
tables and fruit and I expect my gobs have loaded 
up by now.” 

After the commander left, the conversation was all 
33 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


of this latest 'development in the search for the mys- 
terious conspirators and every phase and theory was 
thoroughly threshed out without coming to any more 
definite conclusion than before. 

“It’s just one confounded disappearance after an- 
other!” declared Mr. Henderson. “I shouldn’t be 
surprised now if Rawlins vanished or even if that 
Smemoff had gone up in a wisp of smoke.” 


CHAPTER III 


SURPRISES 


S if in answer to his words, there was a knock 



at the door and as Tom opened it a colored 


boy handed him an envelope which he in- 


stantly recognized as a cable. 

It was addressed to Mr. Pauling and as Tom’s 
father tore it open and glanced at its contents a 
strange expression sw^t over his face and he uttered 
a sharp ejaculation of surprise. 

‘‘Speak of angels, Henderson!” he remarked, as 
he passed thfe cable to his associate. “What do you 
think of that?” 

“Well, I’ll be ” began Mr. Henderson as he 

hurriedly read the familiar cypher message, “Smer- 
noff has escaped! Confound those fellows! Can’t 
they keep any one under lock and key? The second 
time too. Now there will be the devil to pay.” 

“Yes, it’s regrettable,” agreed Mr. Pauling, “but 
I wouldn’t worry over him. The chances are they’ll 


35 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


get him again and I can’t see how it will be possible 
for him to reach his friends down here or even to com- 
municate with them — with his submarine gone and 
his confederates arrested or dead. And we have all 
the information he could give us. No, I don’t think 
his escape will trouble us much in this undertaking. 
I’d hate to be in your shoes and in ihe States with 
hinx, though. He’s sworn to ‘get’ you, Henderson, 
and he’s absoluteiy reckless and ruthless, as you 
know.” 

“Gosh, he might come down here!” exclaimed 
Tom. 

“Little chance of that,” his father assured him. 
“Every ship will be watched and don’t forget he has 
neither diving suit, radio nor undersea boat to help 
him. Besides he’ll find it a hard job to discover 
where we are. Don’t be nervous over him, boys.” 

For several days nothing eventful occurred and the 
boys began to find time hanging heavily on their 
hands. Mr. Pauling would not consent to their tak- 
ing a trip on a sponging vessel as they had hoped, 
for, as he pointed out, word from Rawlins might be 
received at any moment and there could be no delay. 
But the arrival of the mails from New York, bring- 
36 


SURPRISES 


ing the latest radio news and radio periodicals, 
proved a godsend to the boys who had discovered 
that a tiny island the size of New Providence was 
somewhat limited in the interests it possessed for two 
go-ahead, strenuous lads, despite its picturesque town, 
its odd people and its beauties. 

The two were soon deep in the latest developments 
of radio and were eagerly discussing plans for the 
wonderful things they would do when the present trip 
was successfully ended and they were once more in 
New York. Tom was just reading an article on the 
almost miraculous properties of specially prepared 
crystals of Rochelle salt when his father entered the 
room. 

“Better pack your duds!” he exclaimed. “Here’s 
good news for you.” 

“Oh, I bet Mr. Rawlins ’s arrived!” cried Tom, 
throwing aside his magazine and jumping up. 

“Right the first time!” his father replied, smiling. 
“That is, he has not arrived, but I have just received 
a radio message from Disbrow saying ‘William 
sends regards’ which means that the submarine has 
signaled and that all is well. He is probably close 
to the prearranged meeting place now and the launch 
37 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


is ready. Get your things together and we’ll be oflf. 
Remember, if any one questions you* we are off for 
a fishing trip.” 

Half an hour later the four were aboard a fast 
cabin launch which had been purchased and held in 
readiness for the news of Rawlins’ arrival. 

Leaving Nassau astern, the launch was headed 
towards the north, but no sooner were they out of 
sight of any prying eyes which might be watching 
from the island, than they slipped behind some low 
cays and shifted their course to the east. At the 
wheel was a stalwart brown-skinned young man and 
Tom in whispers asked his father if he was sure 
the negro could be trusted. 

Mr. Pauling laughed. “Yo.u’re getting as suspi- 
cious of every one as an old hand,” he replied. 
“Don’t fret over Sam, Tom. He’s been with us 
for years and very luckily too. He was born and 
bred in the Bahamas and these natives never forget a 
channel or a reef. He was with me when I was 
down here in the spring.” 

“But I never saw him before,” said Tom, rather 
puzzled to know where this chocolate-colored addi- 
tion to their forces had been hidden. 

38 


SURPRISES 


“Of course not,” chuckled his father, “and you 
never saw several other men in Nassau whom I might 
name.' I might add another sentence to that excel- 
lent motto of yours and that is: ‘and be seen by no 
one until occasion calls for it.’ However, Sam saw 
you and was never very far from you. In fact I 
believe he once taught you that living corals are not 
white.” 

“Jehoshaphat!” exclaimed Frank. “You don’t 
mean to say he’s the boatman!” 

“Exactly!” replied Mr. Pauling. “Didn’t you 
recognize him?” 

“But, but, the boatman didn’t look like him,” de- 
clared Tom, staring at the pilot, “he had a gray 
beard and gray hair and talked like one of the 
Conchs.” 

“A little gray wool and and a gray wig will work 
wonders — especially on a black man,” replied Mr. 
Pauling. “And remember Sam is a Conch as you 
call them and can naturally talk his native dialect.” 

“Well, I never believed all those detective stories 
about men disguising themselves,” said Frank, “but 
I will hereafter.” 

Mr. Henderson laughed heartily. “No real de- 
39 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 

tective or Secret Service man uses disguises — that 
is false beards and wigs and make up — ^nowadays,” 
he declared. “To attempt a disguise would be to 
excite suspicions at once — any crook with half an 
eye would penetrate such makeshifts in New York; 
but with a colored man down here it’s different. The 
natives are not observant and there are few if any 
skillful crooks, and who would imagine for a moment 
that a negro was in the Service? No, boys, you 
must learn to believe only what you actually see.” 

“Even less than that,” added Mr. Pauling. “I 
should say ‘believe only half that you see and nothing 
you hear.’ ” 

“Then I only believe half of Sam and nothing 
he told us,” laughed Tom. “Did he really work for 
Mr. Rawlins?” 

“Yes and no,” replied his father. “He met 
Rawlins when I did last spring and did take a part 
in one film — Rawlins wanted a man to tackle a shark 
under water and Sam volunteered; but he was not 
regularly employed.” 

“Gosh, then Sam really has done that!” cried 
Frank. “Say, I hope we see a shark so he can do 
it for us.” 


40 


SURPRISES 


“Sam has other matters to attend to,” Mr. Paul 
ing reminded him, “but if he has time when wg. 
reach the place we’re bound for he will no doubt 
gladly accommodate you and any sharks that may be 
about.” 

Now that the boys knew the secret of the black 
man they decided to have some sport themselves 
and after securing Mr. Pauling’s and Mr. Hender- 
son’s promises that they would not tell Sam that the 
boys knew that he was their former boatman, the 
two lads plied Sam with questions, pretending to 
swallow everything he said without hesitation. 
Then, very adroitly, they led the conversation into 
other channels and let out many hints that led Sam 
to believe they had penetrated his former dis- 
guise. 

“What do you dye your hair with?” asked Frank 
innocently. “It used to be gray.” 

Sam looked troubled. “Dye ma hair?” he replied, 
striving to maintain a puzzled expression and to 
speak in casual tones. “I guess you is jokin’. Ah 
don’t dye ma hair. Boss. No, sir, ma wool’s jus’ 
as the Lord made it.” 

“Well why did you shave off your whiskers?” 

41 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


asked Tom. “Thought you loo'ked too old to suit 
those darky girls in Nassau?” 

Sam was now genuinely uneasy. “Ah doan’ 
bother wif she,” he declared indignantly, and un- 
consciously lapsing into the Conch vernacular. “Ah 
always shaves. Yaas, sir. Ah never grow no whis- 
kers. Wha’ fo’ yo’ arsk such interrogation. Chief?” 

“I guess a shark must have bitten it off,” suggested 
Frank in an undertone nudging Tom slyly, “or per- 
haps it was in the way when he dove after corals to 
show to some other Northerners looking for white 
corals.” 

Sam turned and stared at the boys in amazement. 
“Lawd bless yo’!” he exclaimed. “Den fo’ a fac’ 
yo’ knowed me an’ was jus’ pretendin’ yo’ didn’t all 
tha’ time!” 

“Of course!” replied Tom trying to keep a sober 
face as he saw Sam’s surprise and chagrin at having 
been discovered, “you must have thought we were 
green.” 

For a moment, poor Sam seemed utterly dispirited. 
He had taken the utmost pride in his clever disguise 
and now, after all, these two boys had penetrated 
it. If that were so, then no doubt, others had done 
42 


SURPRISES 

the same and Mr. Pauling and Mr. Henderson would 
blame him. 

But the next instant a relieved look swept over 
his good-;iatured face as he caught sight of the two 
gentlemen trying to stifle their laughs, and, realizing 
it had all been a plant, he burst into a hearty roar of 
merriment over the way he had been fooled. 

“Ah guess yo’ young gent’men did sure ’nough get 
ma goat!” he exclaimed, “an’ Ah’m jus’ boun’ fo’ to 
get yours an’ knife a sh’ak.” 

Now that the boys had had their sport with Sam 
they found him a most interesting companion, and 
standing in the bows of the speeding launch, asked 
him innumerable questions about the various islets, 
the birds, the fish and the reefs they passed. It was 
nearly sundown when they sighted the island where 
it had been agreed they would meet Rawlins — a 
lovely palm-fringed islet with silvery- white beaches, 
and, much to the boys’ surprise, they saw the roofs 
of buildings peeping from among the foliage. 

“Why, people live there!” cried Tom. “Say, we 
can’t meet Mr. Rawlins there.” 

“Those are Rawlins’ buildings,” replied his father 
smiling at Tom’s distressed expression. “Didn’t I 
43 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


tell you? This is where he takes his undersea pic- 
tures — ^his studio and workshop, you know — ^but at 
this season it’s deserted. We’re perfectly safe 
there.” 

A few minutes later the launch slipped through 
a narrow channel between outjutting ledges of jagged, 
gray coral rock and entered a beautiful little harbor 
or cove. On one side was a low point, covered with 
coconut palms, and on the other a white sand-beach 
with a small dock and with a large wooden building, 
— red roofed and with green shutters — just beyond. 

“Well we’re here first,” exclaimed Tom as the 
laimch forged slowly towards the dock. “There’s 
no sign of the submarine.” 

“No, but some one’s here!” cried Frank. 

As he spoke a figure appeared upon the dock 
holding glasses to his eyes and the next moment the 
boys recognized it. 

“Gosh! It’s Mr. Rawlins!” shouted Tom. “But 
where is the submarine?” 

A moment later the launch grated alongside the 
pier and Rawlins with a grin welcomed them. 

“But — ^but, where’s the submarine?” demanded 
Tom before Rawlins could speak. 

44 


SURPRISES 

‘‘Safe and sound!” he replied. “Welcome to my 
kingdom!” 

Then, when the first greeting was over, he ex- 
claimed. “ni say I’ve news for you! Couldn’t 
guess what ’tis. When we were tinkering around in 
that old sub, we found a secret compartment — sort 
of locker — and some darned queer things in it — 
radio stuff of some sort, I expect. I didn’t show it 
to any one — ^not even to our ‘Sparks’ but I’ve got it 
up at the house. Come on and have a look at it. 
And I’ve another surprise for you too — but that will 
keep — ^that’s for you, Mr. Pauling. Come along.” 

Hurrying up the path between the hedges of gay- 
flowered hibiscus the party entered the building which 
served Rawlins as den, living place and workshop 
combined. 

The boys were amazed as they glanced about. 
They had not expected to find anything on the is- 
land and here they were surrounded with every com- 
fort. Luxurious wicker-work furniture all about; 
enlarged photographs and paintings of scenes from 
Rawlins’ sub sea films on the walls; rugs of woven 
grass and matting on the polished floors; a phono- 
graph in one comer and shelves of books. 

45 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


On a stand at one side of the room was a model 
of a submarine complete in all its details; there 
were models of sailing vessels on shelves and freshly 
cut flowers filled vases and bowls. 

‘‘Say, you’ve a regular house here!” cried Tom, 
“It’s fine!” 

“Oh, it’ll do for a hang-out,” replied Rawlins as 
he began to undo a package, “But you’ll like the 
studio better. Look here, what do you make of 
these?” 

As he spoke he showed the boys the contents of 
the package. There were one or two of the single 
control coils the boys had already seen, a pair of 
peculiar phone receivers, several beautiful shining 
crystals, one of which was secured in a metallic 
stand or ring and an odd affair about two feet in 
length and three inches in diameter looking like an 
overgrown walking stick wound with wire and with 
a sliding ring upon it. 

For an instant, the two boys gazed at the collec- 
tion with puzzled, uncomprehending faces and then, 
suddenly, a queer look of mingled surprise, delight 
and imderstanding swept across Tom’s features. 

“Gosh!” he cried, picking up one of the crystals, 
46 


SURPRISES 


“Gosh! m bet I do know what these are. Say, 
they’re those wonderful Rochelle salt crystals I was 
reading about. Now we will have something worth 
while! But I cap’t imagine what this thing is, it 
looks like a funny big coil, but whoever saw a coil 
like it and with this sliding ring on it?” 

It was now Frank’s turn to exhibit his knowledge 
of the latest discoveries in radio. “Hurrah, I 
know!” he exclaimed. “It’s a resonance coil! 
Don’t you remember, I was just speaking about it 
when your father told us to get ready? Say, these 
things beat loop aerials all to pieces. Why, that 
magazine said that with one of ’em you could tell 
where a sending station was and even how far away! 
It’s an aerial and tuning coil in one. Gee, Tom, we 
are in luck! If we want to find those chaps now 
we’ll have a regular cinch!” 

At the boys’ excited exclamations Mr. Hender- 
son, who had been examining a picture, turned to 
them. 

“What’s all the excitement, boys?” he asked. 
“Anything interesting that Rawlins has found?” 

“Well I should say sor declared Tom. “Look, 
here’s some of those Rochelle salt crystals and a 
47 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


resonance coil. Do you know about them, Mr. 
Henderson?” 

“Jove, you’re right!” ejaculated the other. “Yes, 
I’ve seen experiments made with the salt — and have 
seen them used in submarine work during the war 
too, and I’ve read Gen. Squiers’ articles on the reso- 
nance coil and its properties. No wonder those fel- 
lows in the sub got by with such things to aid them.” 

“Well I suppose it’s all mighty plain to you, but 
I’ll be hanged if I can see where Rochelle salts come 
in,” declared Rawlins. “I thought that was medi^ 
cine.” 

“So it is, under certain conditions,” agreed Mr. 
Henderson, “but if the salt is prepared or ‘grown’ so 
as to form a certain kind of crystal it possesses almost 
magical properties. By its aid one can hear a fly 
walk, insects talk or molecules of metal turning over 
in an iron bar.” 

“Nothing doing!” exclaimed Rawlins. “I can be- 
lieve pretty big yarns after seeing what radio does, 
but I’m from Missouri when you talk about a bit 
of salt making a fellow hear a fly’s trotters or the 
inside of iron getting restless. You’ll have to show 


SURPRISES 


“That will be easy, I imagine,” replied Mr. Hen- 
derson. “Tom says he’s been reading the accounts 
of it. I expect he can make you hear your own 
thoughts almost. But with no exaggeration it is a 
most marvelous thing. During the war we used it 
as a detector to hear vessels at a distance — particu- 
larly subs, and it saved countless thousands of lives. 
One man in Washington is employed to devote all of 
his spare time merely to growing these special crys- 
tals. If Tom can arrange the apparatus on the sub- 
marine we can locate the other sub if we get near 
her. You’ve made a great find, Rawlins.” 

“What’s that you said about another sub?” asked 
Rawlins. “Don’t tell me they’ve got another one!” 

“That’s what we think,” replied Mr. Pauling. “I 
forgot you didn’t know.” In a few words he related 
Commander West’s story of the finding of the de- 
serted schooner and the disappearance of the crew. 

“I’ll say they’re some little deserters!” exclaimed 
Rawlins, “and you’re dead right about another sub. 
I’ll bet. And say, that helps us some too. They 
left that schooner and took to the U-boat — that is 
if they did have a sub at the Caicos. Well, that 
fits right in with my theory about the latitude and 
49 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


longitude. If they left the schooner there and took 
the sub you can bet the Caicos are not far from 
their hang-out. I’ll bet they knew the destroyer 
wouldn’t touch the smack and expected to lie low and 
take her again after the boys had cleared out. Why, 
they might have been lying submerged right along- 
side of her or with their periscope sticking up watch- 
ing the destroyer from back of some reef or a bunch 
of mangroves. Yes, sir — if we hit the Caicos we 
won’t be far off.” 

‘‘H-m-m, there’s a lot of good reasoning there,” 
agreed Mr. Pauling. ‘‘And if we’re to prove the 
theory the quicker we get started the better.” 

“Right you are,” agreed Rawlins. “We’re ready 
to sail any time. I just want to get a few things 
together and I’ll be with you. Want to have a 
look around the studio and shop, boys?” 

The boys would gladly have remained for hours 
or even days in the studio but they realized there 
was no time to be lost. Here were diving suits of 
all kinds, sets representing the interior of ships and 
submarines, the yards and rigging of a bark com- 
plete, but with no hull, strange devices at whose use 
they could only guess and in one comer the enor- 
50 


SURPRISES 


mous intricate octopus of rubber, springs and wire 
which when occupied by a man, could be made to 
imitate so perfectly the real creature that scien- 
tists who had seen the picture in which it figured had 
insisted that it was a genuine octopus. 

The workshop also was full of interesting things. 
Here was where Rawlins and his assistants made 
the diving suits, the under-sea apparatus for taking 
the films, the lifelike octopus, the miniature ships, 
the complicated and wonderful counterfeits of the 
interiors of the submarines and many other objects. 

But long before they had half time to examine all 
these things Rawlins was ready and leading the way 
along a narrow path through the brush headed for 
the other end of the island. 

‘‘Aren’t you afraid some one will disturb 
your property?” asked Mr. Henderson, “I shouldn’t 
think it safe to leave all these things un- 
guarded.’’ 

“I don’t,” replied Rawlins. “I have an old col- 
ored chap and his wife who live here. That’s why 
I kept the submarine out of sight.” 

“Where are they now?” asked Mr. Pauling. “Are 
you sure their curiosity won’t be aroused and that 
51 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


they may not wonder at your sudden appearance and 
departure and our arrival?” 

Rawlins laughed. “They might be curious or 
talk about a sub — if they saw it, but as far as I’m 
concerned they are quite sure I’m an obeah man — 
sort of witch-doctor you know — and absolutely in- 
comprehensible. If I dropped from the sky in a 
parachute and left in a pillar of flame they’d think 
it quite in keeping with my habits and no more re- 
markable than walking into the sea and out again 
at will. Just at present they’re so busy over some 
things I brought ’em that they wouldn’t see a sub 
if it poked its nose into their cabin. And even if 
they wanted to talk they couldn’t, there’s not a soul 
living within a dozen miles.” 

They had now come out of the brush upon a sec- 
ond miniature harbor where a small boat was drawn 
up on the smooth beach. 

With Sam helping, Rawlins shoved off the boat 
as the others climbed in. 

“We might have come around by the launch, I 
suppose,” Rawlins remarked, “but it’s safer over 
at the dock and this boat’s handier.” 

With Sam at the oars and Rawlins steering, the 
52 


SURPRISES 

boat swept away from the beach aiAl headed for a 
jutting point. 

As they drew near and the boys were watching 
the circling seabirds and admiring the beautifully 
colored water, Rawlins spoke to Sam and ordered 
him to stop rowing. 

“See anything of the sub?” he asked as the boat 
lost headway. 

Every one gazed about, expecting to see the under- 
sea boat just awash or just emerging from the sur- 
face, but not a ripple broke the glassy water. Along 
the s^hore they were approaching was a dense belt 
of green trees — mangroves and sea grape — with a 
few ragged coconut palms above all, but not a sign 
of anything remotely resembling a submarine. 

“No, I give up,” said Mr. Pauling at last. 

“So do I,” added Mr. Henderson. 

“Me too,” said Tom. 

“I don’t believe it’s here,” declared Frank. 

Rawlins chuckled. “Thought it was pretty good,” 
he exclaimed. “You’ve been looking right at her, 
too.” 

“Looking at her!” exclaimed Mr. Pauling. 
“Where?” 


53 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 

“Straight ahead,” laughed Rawlins, “over against 
that point.” 

All eyes were now turned towards the point and as 
Sam again took to his oars and they drew nearer 
and nearer the two men and the boys searched the 
rocks and greenery in vain. 

Not until they were within one hundred yards of 
the shore were they rewarded. Then Tom uttered 
a cry. “Hurrah, I see it!” he shouted. “Gosh, but 
she was hidden! Say, how did you do it?” 

“Just a bit of camouflage,” chuckled Rawlins. 
“Idea I got when making a set once. Thought it 
might be handy to be able to lie on the surface and 
not be seen some time.” 

“Well you’ve certainly succeeded,” declared Mr. 
Henderson. “The effect of the rocks and foliage is 
perfect. I’d defy any one to see her five hundred 
feet distant.” 

Even now the outlines of the submarine were so 
hidden by the clever painting on her upper works 
and hull that the boys could not have been sure what 
was boat and what was foliage if a man had not ap- 
peared, emerging from a hatchway, and followed by 
two others. 


54 


SURPRISES 


The next minute the boat was alongside the craft, 
and scrambling onto her decks the boys gazed about 
with interest. 

They had been on this same underseas boat be- 
fore, but then she had been tied up to a dock in the 
Navy Yard and only curiosity to see what she con- 
tained h%d filled their minds. But now she was 
riding on the waters in the West Indies, she was 
manned and ready to sail and the boys were wildly 
excited at the thoughts of adventures to come and of 
sailing on a real submarine under the sea. 


CHAPTER IV 


RADIO MAGIC 

I T appears to me there’s one point you’ve over- 
looked,” remarked Mr. Pauling as he glanced 
about. “I thought your main idea in using this 
submarine was that if sighted by any of those we 
are after they would recognize it and their suspicions 
would not be aroused. With this disguise they would 
never know the boat.” 

Rawlins laughed. “Oh, I’ve kept that in mind,” 
he responded. “This is just a camouflaged camou- 
flage.” 

Then, before Mr. Pauling could ask for an ex- 
planation, he turned to the members of his crew, gave 
an order and, to the amazement of Mr. Pauling and his 
party, the men commenced to strip a layer of painted 
canvas from the submarine. 

“By Jove!” exclaimed Mr. Henderson, “that’s 
cleverly done. I never realized it was not painted 
56 


RADIO MAGIC 

upon the vessel herself. You’re some artist, Raw- 
lins.” 

As soon as the canvas disguise had been re- 
moved, preparations were made to get under way and 
all entered the hatch in the superstructure. 

“How about the destroyer?” inquired Mr. Paul- 
ing. “Did you arrange with Disbrow to be near in 
case of need?” 

“Yes,” replied Rawlins. “We simply have to 
give him our position and he’ll be within an hour’s 
run.” 

“Didn’t I understand you had a surprise in store 
for us?” asked Mr. Henderson. “What was it, that 
canvas camouflage?” 

“Not a bit of it!” declared Rawlins. “It’s down 
below. Come along and have a look at it.” 

Descending into the submarine, Rawlins led the 
way through the narrow passage past the engine room 
and stopped before a small iron door. “Be pre- 
pared for a jolt!” he warned them and as he spoke 
threw the door open. 

As the two men glanced within they fairly jumped 
and both uttered involuntary cries of utter amaze- 
ment. Seated upon a bunk in the small steel walled 
57 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 

room was a man and no second glance was needed to 
recognize him. It was Smernoff! 

But what a changed Smernoff! No longer did the 
small piglike eyes glare defiance and hatred at the 
Americans. His head was bowed upon his chest, 
his mouth, once so hard and cruel, drooped at the 
corners, his face was lined and seamed and his eyes 
held a far-away, wistful look. 

“Where did he come from?” exclaimed Mr. Hen- 
derson, when he recovered from his surprise at this 
totally unexpected and almost miraculous reap- 
pearance of the Russian. 

“And what on earth’s happened to him?” added 
Mr. Pauling. “Why, the fellow looks absolutely 
tamed and cowed — in fact broken. What have you 
done to him?” 

“He’s tame all right,” replied Rawlins. “But we 
haven’t done a thing to him — except keep him locked 
up until we had orders from you. He’s no longer 
either an enemy or a ‘red,’ Mr. Pauling.” 

“Well, you’re a most surprising man — I don’t 
wonder your darky caretakers believe you are in 
league with the devil — and you speak in riddles. 
Come, what’s the story? Why is this fellow so 
58 


RADIO MAGIC 


changed and what on earth do you me^n when you 
say he’s no longer a ‘red’ or an enemy?” 

But before Rawlins could reply a deep voice came 
from the room and with a start Mr. Pauling whirled 
about to find that Smemoff was speaking; and in 
English. 

“Excuse, please,” he said in slow hesitating words. 
“Me, I no mek trouble, no. Me, I theenk maybe can 
help. Me, I want keel all Bolshevik fellow. Ah! 
heem, I dreenk he blood!” 

“By Jove, he speaks English!” cried Mr. Hender- 
son. 

“I’ll say he does!” agreed Rawlins with a grin. 
“Always has, just been bluffing all along, but he’s 
through with that now. I’ll tell you the story in a 
few words. Two days out we sighted a disabled 
powerboat and running alongside found Smernoff 
just about all in lying in the bottom. You can just 
bet I was about knocked clean over when I saw him. 
Last I’d seen of him he was under lock and key in 
jail and here he was bobbing up in a little power 
boat in the middle of the Atlantic. Of course none 
of the men knew him so I said nothing-H:old them he 
59 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 

was a bit looney and we’d have to keep him locked 
up. 

“The next day he spoke to me in English and 
nearly bowled me over again by doing so. Then he 
told me he’d escaped and all about it. Said he’d 
got away by the aid of some ‘red’ sympathizers in the 
prison and had hidden with friends on the East Side 
somewhere down in Allen Street. While he was 
lying low he got word from Russia that his whole 
family — ^kids and all — ^had been murdered by the 
Bolshevists and he went clean off his head at that. 
It was one thing to be a ‘red’ and kill others and a 
different matter to have the ‘reds’ killing your folks. 

“Well, the upshot of it was that he swung clean 
around and only had one thought and that was to get 
even. He started in by doing up all the ‘reds’ he 
knew around his hang-out and then hit it for the docks 
with the idea of clearing out — stowing away — in some 
ship that would get him to Europe. But he couldn’t 
make it. Too many cops about and so he grabbed a 
powerboat, paddled away from the docks at night 
and started for the open sea. 

“He wasn’t nutty enough to expect to cross in the 
craft, but he had an idea he could get well off the 
60 


RADIO MAGIC 


land and sight some outward bound ship and get 
picked up. Only trouble was he hadn’t figured on 
a northwest gale which drove him off the steamships’ 
courses and left him disabled and without grub or 
water. Drifted three days and nights before we hove 
in sight. He thinks it’s a direct act of God and I 
don’t know but he’s right. At any rate, he’s keen on 
being with us and if he is in earnest — and I reckon 
he wouldn’t have taken the chance he did if he wasn’t 
— she’ll be a help to us all right.” 

“It’s one of those miraculous coincidences that are 
far stranger than fiction,” commented Mr. Pauling. 
“But I am skeptical about his story. How do we 
know it is not a tissue of lies? He may have merely 
tried to escape the police in the launch and invented 
this yarn to hoodwink us. I guess we’d better keep 
him locked up.” 

“Well he’s got the letter telling about his folks 
being killed,” said Rawlins. 

“H-m-m, and his face is changed — I’m inclined to 
believe him,” declared Mr. Henderson. “You know, 
Pauling,” he continued, “there are no more vindictive 
enemies of the ‘reds’ than one of their company who 
suffers at their hands. You must remember that Ivan 
61 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


was as fanatical a Soviet as ever lived until his par- 
ents were butchered.” 

“Yes, you’re right, Henderson,” admitted Mr. 
Pauling. “We’ll have a long talk with Smemoff and 
get at the truth. But for the present we’ll leave him. 
Plenty of time after we’re under way.” 

Rawlins grinned, “We’re under way now,” he re- 
marked. “Have been for the past fifteen minutes. 
Didn’t you hear the engines?” 

“Jove, you don’t say so!” exclaimed Mr. Hender- 
son. 

“Gosh, I can’t believe it!” cried Tom. 

“Why, I thought that noise was just the dynamos!” 
put in Frank. ‘‘Say, are we under water?” 

“Surest thing you know!” replied Rawlins. 
“She’s under her electric motors now and runs smooth 
as a watch. Come on, boys, and have a squint 
through the periscope.” 

“We’ll stay behind a hit and talk to Smemoff,” 
said Mr. Pauling. “No use in keeping him locked up 
if he’s in earnest.” 

Reaching the observation room Rawlins led the 
boys to the eye-piece of the periscope and as Tom 
squinted into it he gave a delighted cry. 

62 


RADIO MAGIC 


‘‘Gosh, Frank, we are under water! Say, I can see 
the island back there pretty near two miles away. 
Isn’t it great! Think of being in a real submarine 
under the sea!” 

Frank was as delighted and interested as Tom when 
his turn came to have a look. Then, a few minutes 
later, the louder rumble of the Deisel motors throbbed 
through the undersea craft and Rawlins announced 
that they were on the surface. 

“No use running submerged except when in sight 
of land or a vessel,” he said, “she doesn’t make half 
her speed underwater and it’s a strain on her and we 
might bump into a reef. I’m not any too familiar 
with the channels that will accommodate her sub- 
merged.” 

Hurrying up the steel ladder the boys and Rawlins 
reached the deck and gazed about, delighted at the 
speed the craft was making and the novel sensation 
of traveling on a submarine. But there was really 
little to be seen and the vessel might have been an 
ordinary ship as far as appearances or sensations 
were concerned. Noticing the aerial overhead, the 
boys’ minds at once turned to radio. 

“Are our things all right?” Tom asked Rawlins. 

63 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


‘‘I guess we might as well get busy and set them up. 
We may need them at any time.” 

“Sure they’re all right,” replied the diver. “But 
say. I’ve been wondering how you’ll work this thing. 
Won’t the steel hull interfere with the waves?” 

“I don’t know,” admitted Tom, “but we’ll soon find 
out. At any rate if the others sent and received mes- 
sages in this craft we can.” 

“Well if they could and they did why did they need 
this gadget overhead?” asked Rawlins. 

“Maybe that was just for sending when on the sur- 
face,” suggested Frank. “You know those sets of 
ours would only send a short distance under water 
and we used mighty short wave lengths. If they 
wanted to send and receive ordinary messages they’d 
need this aerial, I expect.” 

“Hadn’t thought of that,” said Rawlins. “I never 
can get onto this radio stuff. By the way, how about 
showing me how a fellow can hear a fly jazzing and 
all that?” 

“Gosh!” exclaimed Tom, “I’d almost forgotten 
those crystals. Say, I’ll bet that’s how they re- 
ceived under water. Come on, let’s try some experi- 
ments.” 


64 


RADIO MAGIC 


Descending the ladder, they made their way 
to the radio room and Rawlins hauled out the 
cases in which the boys’ undersea radio sets were 
packed. The naval operator who was in charge of 
the room looked rather contemptuously at the “kids” 
as he considered them, but his attitude underwent a 
tremendous change when he learned that the “kids” 
were in control of the radio aboard and that he- was 
subject to their orders. 

“Let’s try those crystals first,” suggested Frank. 
“I’m crazy to see if they’ll really do all that article 
said they would.” 

As the boys got out the big crystals the regular 
operator’s eyes gleamed. “By Jupiter!” he ex- 
claimed, “That’s the first time I’ve seen those since 
the war. We used ’em in submarine detectors you 
know — could hear a sub’s screw whirring three miles 
off.” 

“Hurrah, then you know about them!” cried Tom. 
“I’m awfully glad you do. We only read about them 
and Mr. Rawlins wouldn’t believe the things we told 
him, so we’re going to show him.” 

“Well, I don’t know such an all-fired lot either,” 
65 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 

admitted the naval man. ‘‘But I know they worked 
wonders as we used ’em.” 

“Let’s see,” said Tom as he examined the crystal 
in its metal support. “We have to connect it with 
our amplifier. There, that may not be right, but it’s 
the way I understand it. Then we connect another 
crystal to the amplifier. Now let’s see. They say 
that if this is done right and the first crystal is 
scratched or rubbed on something, the second one will 
reproduce the noise, only thousands of times louder.” 

As he spoke, he gingerly touched the crystal, but 
nothing happened. With a puzzled look he rubbed 
his finger across it and still no result. Then, opening 
his pocket knife he scratched the crystal deeply, but 
still nothing occurred. 

Rawlins began to laugh. “Nothing doing!” he 
exclaimed. “I’ll bet they’re only good for medi- 
cine.” 

“I expect we haven’t got it connected properly,” 
said Frank. “Let’s try a different combination.” 

While he spoke the two boys were busy discon- 
necting and rearranging the wires while Rawlins 
chuckled and kidded them good-naturedly. 

Finally the boys had the wires connected and as 
66 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


Tom turned on the filament to the amplifier tubes 
in preparation for another trial Rawlins, who had 
been casually examining a bit of crystal, tossed it 
onto the table. Instantly there was a shivering 
crash. 

“Struck a reef!” cried Rawlins, and with 
frightened eyes all stood motionless, silently staring 
at one another and expecting each moment to feel the 
craft reeling or to hear excited shouts from the engine 
room. Was she injured? Was their cruise to end 
so soon? Was the submarine sinking? Such 
thoughts sped through the boys’ minds and each won- 
dered how long they would stand there waiting for the 
order to desert their craft. But the steady throb of 
the engines continued. No sounds of excitement 
came from the engine crew. No signal from the 
navigator. 

“Well I’ll be jiggered!” ejaculated Rawlins. 
“Must have just scraped bottom. Close shave 
though. Well, I guess you’re satisfied those salt 
rocks aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.” 

As he ended Rawlins contemptuously flipped his 
finger nail against a crystal and almost bumped his 
head against the low ceiling as he leaped aside, for 
67 


RADIO MAGIC 


at the touch of his finger nail a high-pitched shriek 
seemed to issue from the crystals. 

“Hurrah!” shouted Tom. “Hurrah! Now do 
you say they don’t work!” 

“Oh, oh!” cried Frank between peals of laughter. 
“Oh, oh! That is one on you, Mr. Rawlins. That 
‘struck a reef!’ Say, that wasn’t a reef, that was 
just the crystal you tossed on the table!” 

Rawlins stood staring with gaping mouth and in- 
credulous eyes. 

“Sure it was!” repeated Frank. “See here!” 
Picking up the fragment of crystal he dropped it on 
the table top and again the rattling crash resounded 
through the room. 

“Well!” cried Rawlins. “That beats anything I 
ever saw or heard by twenty miles.” 

Half fearfully he reached forward and moved the 
crystal and a dull grating noise resulted. He tapped 
gently on the table and the blows resounded through 
the room like strokes of a sledge hammer. 

“Beats the Dutch, don’t it!” exclaimed the operator. 
Then, taking out his watch he placed it on the table 
near the crystals and instantly steady beats like a 
hammer ringing on an anvil came from the crystals. 

68 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 

“Oh, here you are!” exclaimed Mr. Pauling who 
now entered the room. “What are you up to? Oh, 
I see — trying to show our Missouri friend! Well, 
how does it work?” 

“ITl say Fm shown!” declared Rawlins. “Dam- 
dest thing I ever saw! Just look here, Mr. Pauling. 
Drop something on the table there.” 

Rather curiously, Tom’s father drew a coin from 
his pocket and dropped it on the table as suggested 
and at the resounding bang that followed he uttered 
an exclamation of amazement and involuntarily 
jumped back. 

“You don’t mean to say that was the sound of a 
dime dropping?” he cried. “Why, it’s simply 
marvelous — absolutely uncanny.” 

“Now don’t you believe you could hear a fly 
walk?” demanded Tom of Rawlins. 

“You bet, and a mosquito sneeze!” repRed the 
diver. “I’ll wager you could hear a man write his 
own name.” 

Drawing a pencil from his pocket he wrote his 
name upon the paper covering the table, and all 
gasped in wonder as each stroke of the pencil came 
to their ears in grating, reverberating howls. 

69 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


“Ah ha!” ejaculated Mr. Henderson who had ap- 
proached unseen. “So you’ve found the magic in 
the crystals! But I’d wager you haven’t found all 
the wonders they contain yet. I suppose you haven’t 
a phonograph on board?” 

“One of the men has,” replied the naval operator. 
“Shall I fetch it, sir?” 

“Yes, if you will,” said Mr. Henderson. “I’ll 
show you a singing crystal in a moment, and 
there’s another thing. These crystals possess an- 
other remarkable property — they generate electric- 
ity.” 

“Generate electricity!” cried Tom in puzzled tones. 
“How can they do that?” 

“I’ll try to show you when we have tried the phono- 
graph test,” replied Mr. Henderson. “Ah, here’s the 
machine.” 

Shutting off the current to the tubes, Mr. Hender- 
son removed the sound box from the phonograph, 
fastened a needle to the crystal with a bit of thread 
and sealing wax, fastened the whole to the arm of the 
machine and adjusting the needle so it rested on a 
record set the phonograph in motion. 

“Now turn on your filament rheostats,” he said, 
70 


RADIO MAGIC 


and as Tom did so, the second crystal suddenly burst 
into a rollicking song. 

‘‘Absolutely amazing!” declared Mr. Pauling as 
the record stopped. 

“Here’s another!” laughed Mr. Henderson, as he 
again started the record moving. Then, lifting the 
second crystal, he placed it in his pocket with the 
result that he seemed to be singing himself. 

The boys roared with merriment. 

“Why,” cried Tom. “With one of those any one 
could be a ventriloquist. All you’d have to do would 
be to have wires leading out of sight and keep the 
crystal in your pocket. Wouldn’t it be rich!” 

Mr. Henderson now took the singing crystal from 
his pocket and placed it on a bare spot of wood and to 
every one’s amazement it jumped and leaped about 
as if endowed with life. 

“Dances while it sings,” remarked Mr. Henderson. 
“That shows how strong the vibrations are. Now let’s 
try the test for electricity I mentioned.” 

Selecting a large crystal Mr. Henderson placed it 
in one of the metal frames whose use the boys could 
not fathom and after fastening wires to it asked if 
they had a voltmeter. 


71 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


The operator brought one and attaching the 
wires from the crystal to the instrument Mr. Hen- 
derson told them to watch the needle. Then, turn- 
ing the knob on the frame and thus twisting it 
slightly, he brought a strain upon the crystal and in- 
stantly the needle of the voltmeter soared upward to 
500. 

“Jehoshaphat!” cried Frank. “That beats all 
yet!” 

“Fll say it does!” agreed Rawlins. 

“But, why have you never told us about them be- 
fore?” asked Tom. 

“Simply forgot them,” replied Mr. Henderson. 
“I never made use of them and had merely seen their 
wonders demonstrated out at the Bell laboratories 
when I was inspector there. Thought them remark- 
able but of no practical value at the time, although I 
knew later they were used as submarine detectors and 
for deep-seas sounding. I can see now, however, how 
useful they will prove. What are you boys intending 
to do with them?” 

“Well, we hadn’t exactly decided yet,” replied 
Tom, “but we thought the fellows that had this 
sub probably used them in receiving undersea radio 
72 


RADIO MAGIC 

and we were going to rig up something of the same 
sort.” 

“I expect they did use them,” agreed Mr. Hender- 
son, ‘^and you should be able to arrange a set with 
them. Does Bancroft here know how those sub- 
marine detectors were arranged?” 

“Well, not exactly, Sir,” replied the operator, “but 
I think I can manage after a bit of experimenting. 
Sir. That is, with the young gentlemen’s help.” 

“Very well, go to it,” replied Mr. Henderson, “but 
you’ll find they’re doing it with your help if you 
don’t watch out. I’ll wager they can teach you a lot 
about radio.” 

But both Bancroft and the boys found it a far more 
difficult matter to rig up a detector than they had 
imagined. 

“The trouble is we can’t tell when it’s right,” said 
Tom, “and we don’t know yet whether or not we can 
hear even without the crystals. I vote we get Rawlins 
to stop the submarine and go down and test the thing 
out.” 

This seemed a good plan, but they were now 
well away from land and both Rawlins and Mr. Paul- 
ing told the impatient boys that they would have to 
73 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


wait until the next day when Rawlins said they would 
be near one of the cays and could run into shoal 
water and test the instruments. 

In the meantime SmemofF had been put through 
a severe grilling and at last, Mr. Pauling and Mr. 
Henderson being convinced that the Russian was 
cured of Bolshevism forever and really wanted to do 
anything in his power to aid in stamping out the gang 
of which he had been a member, he was freed, but 
cautioned to remain within certain bounds and was 
turned over to the chief engineer. 

“He’s a machinist and engineer,” Mr. Henderson 
explained, “but he’s also a desperate character, or at 
least was, and has escaped from prison twice. For 
reasons which I need not mention we are inclined to 
think he’s reformed and may be of help. Let him 
work, but keep an eye on him constantly and if you 
see anything suspicious or any attempt to disable the 
machinery or to do anything that savors of treachery 
have him put in irons if you have to tap him over the 
head with a spanner to do it.” 

The engineer squinted at Mr. Henderson with a 
quizzical expression. Then, wiping his big hairy 
hands on a piece of cotton waste he pushed back his 
74 


RADIO MAGIC 


greasy cap exposing a shock of flaming hair. 

“Verra weel. Sir,” he replied. ‘‘I ken his breed 
an’ ye can trust me ta see nowt happens as shouldna’. 
But I ne’er used spanner on lad yet, Sir, an ne’er 
expect to hae to. Naw, naw, Meester Henderson, 
Sir; ’tis a braw laddie I canna make see the light o’ 
reason wi’ me ain ban’s.” 

Mr. Henderson chuckled. “Yes, I guess you’re 
right there, McPherson,” he replied. “I remember 
the story about your holding the reverse when the 
lever broke on the Baxter. Personally, I think I’d 
prefer the spanner to your fists if I were the culprit.” 

Early the next morning Long Island was sighted 
and, passing Whale Point with the submarine sub- 
merged, Rawlins headed for Rum Cay. Here, imder 
Sam’s guidance, the sub-sea boat was brought safely 
into a sheltered cove and preparations were made 
for tests of the radio. Rawlins donned his suit and 
slipped out through the air-lock, for the first test was 
to see if he could hear what was sent from the sub- 
marine. When, after the stipulated time, he re- 
turned, he reported that he had heard clearly, but not 
as loudly as in New York. Satisfied that their send- 
ing apparatus would work just as well from within 
75 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


the submarine as from shore Tom also donned a div- 
ing suit for the purpose of sending to Frank who was 
left in charge of the receiving set with Bancroft to 
help him. 

Despite the fact that Tom had been down so often 
in the north it was a totally new and strange sensa- 
tion to descend here in the Bahamas and from a 
submarine. He entered the air-lock with Rawlins, 
saw the water-tight steel doors closed behind him, 
saw Rawlins moving a wheel and slowly the water 
rose about him. Then Rawlins stepped to a lever, 
a round steel door slowly opened in the floor and 
following Rawlins Tom slipped through and half 
floated to the bottom of the sea. For a moment he 
could scarcely believe he was under water. He had 
expected everything to be indistinct, shadowy and 
green as it had been in the north. Instead, he 
seemed standing in air suffused with a soft blue 
light. Before him, plain and distinct, was the bulk 
of the submarine, each seam and rivet clearly visi- 
ble. Under his feet was a smooth, white, sandy 
floor. Here and there great purple sea-fans, sway- 
ing black sea-rods and masses of gaudy coral broke 
the broad expanse of sand while, over and about him, 
76 


RADIO MAGIC 


brilliant scarlet, purple, blue, gold and multicolored 
fishes swam lazily, paying not the least attention to 
the intruders. Looking up, Tom could see only a 
marvelously blue void like a summer’s sky and on 
every side he could see for what seemed an inter- 
minable distance. It was all very wonderful and 
very beautiful and he would have liked to stop and 
admire it, but Rawlins held his arm and was guiding 
him along the sea bottom away from the submarine. 

“Gosh, it’s great!” exclaimed Tom, suddenly re- 
membering that he could converse with his com- 
panion. 

“Didn’t I tell you ’twas!” replied Rawlins, his 
voice coming to Tom so distinctly that the boy 
started. “Not much like that dirty old river.” 

“Hello, hello!” came Frank’s voice plainly, but 
rather faintly. “Were you speaking, Tom?” 

“Yes, can you hear?” cried Tom. 

“What is it you say?” queried Frank’s voice. “I 
can’t make out a word. Just a sort of crackling like 
static.” 

Tom §poke still louder and at last shouted, but 
still Frank kept asking what he was saying and de- 
claring he could not make it out. 

77 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


‘‘Well, something’s wrong,” Tom announced at 
last. “Might as well go back. They can’t hear.” 

Ascending through the open door to the air-lock 
Tom waited while Rawlins manipulated the machin- 
ery which forced the water from the tiny chamber 
and let in the air and a moment later they were 
again in the radio room. 

“I knew you were talking,” said Frank, “but I 
couldn’t make out a single word, just buzzes and 
clicks. What do you suppose is wrong?” 

“It’s the way we have it connected up,” declared 
Tom, “but it gets me. I can’t understand why, if 
we get sounds through our suits with those little grid 
antennae you shouldn’t get them here with that big- 
ger antenna. Did you try the regular aerial con- 
nection too?” 

“Yes I tried both — or rather Mr. Bancroft tried 
one and I tried the other — and he didn’t get any- 
thing.” 

“Well, if the fellow who had this sub before used 
those crystals then they had ’em hooked up differently 
or something. I wonder if their sets in their suits 
would work better.” 

Acting on this idea Rawlins donned one of the 
78 


RADIO MAGIC 


suits they had taken from their captives in New 
York and again went down, but the results were no 
better. As Frank had said, there were sounds — 
buzzing noises which were intermittent and indicated 
that Rawlins was speaking, but nothing that in the 
least resembled human voice or words. 

‘‘We’ll have to think this out,” declared Tom. 
“We get the noises, but not the words so it must be 
we pick up the waves and it’s a question of modula- 
tion. Let’s see. Those crystals magnify sounds 
when they’re touched or vibrated or when there’s a 
vibration or jar to the thing they’re resting on. 
Gosh! I believe I know our trouble.” 

“Well, what is it?” demanded Frank. 

“Why, we’ve got this rigged up for a detector — the 
way they did for submarines — and we do get the 
noises which was what they wanted when locating 
a sub, but we don’t get the words. The trouble is 
we’ve got the cart before the horse. We’ve hooked 
this up so the crystals come before the phones. 
What we need is to transfer the sound waves in the 
phones to the crystals and let ’em amplify them. As 
’tis now we’re amplifying electric waves not sound 
waves.” 


79 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


‘‘I guess you’re right,” agreed Frank. “Let’s try 
it the other way.” 

It took some time to rearrange the set, but with 
Mr. Henderson to advise and Bancroft to help, 
it was done at last and once more Rawlins entered 
the air-lock. 

Hardly had he had time to reach bottom the boys 
thought when, to their inexpressable delight, his voice 
came to their ears .clearly. 

“Hello!” he said. “Do you get me?” 

“Hurrah it works!” cried Tom and instantly Raw- 
lins’s voice i^esponded: 

“Bully for you!” 

“Walk farther off and see if we can get you,” 
suggested Tom over the phone. 

“All right,” responded Rawlins. 

Five minutes passed and then, rather faint, but 
still easily understandable, Rawlins’ voice again 
came to them. 

“All right,” cried Tom. “How far away are 
you?”* 

“About five hundred yards,” replied the diver. 
“I can just hear you.” 

“Well that’s about the limit, I guess,” remarked 
80 


RADIO MAGIC 


Tonij as Rawlins told him he was I'etuming to the 
submarine. ‘‘Say, isn’t it just immense?” 

“Wonderful!” agreed his father. “But let me ask 
a question. Suppose we overhear some one talking. 
How will you know where they are or whether they 
are under water or on land. It seems to me that’s 
a .very important matter.” 

“Golly, that’s so!” exclaimed Tom. “I hadn’t 
thought of that. Our loop aerials won’t work in 
here, I suppose.” 

“Might,” commented Frank, and then, “What 
about that resonance coil? That might do.” 

“Let’s try!” agreed Tom, and calling to Rawlins to 
wait where he was they hurriedly disconnected their 
instruments and connected the odd resonance coil in 
position. 

“Now, say something, Mr. Rawlins,” called 
Tom. 

Anxiously the boys waited but no response came 
although the boys could hear a very faint buzzing 
sound. 

“Well, that evidently is a failure,” said Tom, “but 
just the same these fellows wouldn’t have had it 
aboard unless there was some use for it.” 

81 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


“ITl tell you what I think,” said Bancroft. “My 
idea is they used that in the air, when they were run- 
ning on the surface or just awash. You might get 
the words from under water then, or perhaps it wasn’t 
used for undersea work.” 

“We’ll have to try that — ^when Mr. Rawlins gets 
here,” replied Tom. 

Presently Rawlins appeared and the boys told him 
of their new plans. In a few minutes the submarine 
had risen to the surface and the boys prepared to 
test the resonance coil. 

“First we’ll try it in the air,” announced Tom. 
“Walk over on the island there, Mr. Rawlins, and see 
if we can get you.” 

Accordingly, the diver slipped into the sea and a 
few moments later his head appeared near shore and 
for the first time the boys experienced the strange 
sensation of seeing a man walk ashore from beneath 
the water. That they could receive messages with 
the resonance coil through the air was soon proved 
to their satisfaction, and telling Rawlins to go under 
water and walk about in diflPerent directions the two 
boys and their companions, who were fully as much 
interested, prepared for the final test. But this was 
82 


RADIO MAGIC 


a dismal failure and chagrined and disappointed the 
boys gave up at last. 

‘‘If we hear any one under water we’ll have to 
find them some other way,” Tom announced. “We 
just get that funny buzz we used to hear in New York. 
And m bet anything that was the men talking under 
water. But if we hear anyone talking in the air we 
can locate them all right.” 

As Tom had been speaking he had turned half 
around and his resonance coil was swung towards the 
southeast. The next moment, Frank’s excited voice 
called up from below where he had been seated at 
the receivers. 

“Jehoshaphat!” he yelled. “They’re talking! 
Those Russians! I hear them plainly!” 


CHAPTER V 


A NARROW ESCAPE 

A t Frank’s words Mr. Pauling and Mr. Hen- 
derson leaped to their feet and Tom almost 
dropped the coil in his surprise. 

“By glory!” exclaimed Rawlins, who had just ap- 
peared. 

“Are you sure?” demanded Mr. Pauling. 

“Of course I’m sure,” replied Frank. “I heard 
them just as plain as in New York.” 

Scrambling down the ladder all gathered about the 
instruments, but despite every effort no sounds came 
to their ears. 

“Well, it did before,” insisted Frank. “I hadn’t 
been hearing anything and then, suddenly, I heard the 
voices.” 

Tom sprang up and rushed towards the ladder. 
“Keep listening,” he yelled. “I’ll bet I know how 
’twas.” 


84 


A NARROW ESCAPE 


Hurrying up the ladder, he gained the deck and 
seizing the resonance coil moved it slowly about as 
if pointing with a stick. Then, just as it pointed 
to the southeast he heard Rawlins’ voice. 

“They’ve got it again,” he shouted up the ladder. 
“Come down and hear it.” 

“If I do you’ll lose it,” Tom shouted back. “It’s 
this resonance coil. You only get the voices when it 
points to the southeast. Tell them to listen and you 
yell up when they lose it and get it.” 

Again Tom swung the coil about and before it 
had moved two feet Rawlins called up that the 
sounds had faded away. Once more Tom swung 
the coil back to its former position and once 
again Rawlins notified him that the voices could be 
heard. 

But Tom was wild to be down below and hastily 
hanging the coil to the rail by knotting his handker- 
chief he hurried down. 

“I knew that was it,” he declared excitedly. “The 
coil works and they’re southeast of here. Do you 
know what they’re saying?” 

“No, it’s Russian or German,” replied Mr. Hen- 
derson. “Wish Ivan were here.” 

85 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


“What’s the matter with Smemoff?” suggested 
Rawlins. 

“Of course!” exclaimed Mr. Henderson.* “By 
Jove, what fools we are! Get him, Rawlins.” 

Rawlins dashed from the room and returned a few 
seconds later dragging the big Russian with him. 

“Here, Smemoff!” ordered Mr. Henderson. 
“Tell us what they’re saying. And no lying, 
either!” 

Clapping the receivers over the Russian’s ears 
Mr. Henderson shoved him into the chair. For a 
moment the slow-witted fellow seemed dazed and 
uncomprehending and then, as the words came to 
him and he realized what was wanted, a strange look 
of mingled cunning and ferocity crossed his features 
and his chest heaved with the intensity of his efforts 
to catch every syllable. 

Impatiently the others waited. To ask him to 
translate as the conversation went on they knew 
would merely result in failure; his English was too 
limited and his brain too slow for that. 

“Might let him talk back,” suggested Rawlins in 
a whisper. “He could put up a yarn about escaping 
and find out where they are.” 

86 


A NARROW ESCAPE 

Mr. Pauling shook his head. "‘You don’t know 
the men you’re dealing with,” he said. “They prob- 
ably know all about his escape and his acts in New 
York and a word from him would simply forewarn 
them. I had the sending set cut off the moment 1 
came in — I’m not risking any chance of being 
heard.” 

A moment later, Smernoff slowly swung his big 
body around and with a savage glint in his eyes took 
the receivers from his ears and rose. 

“They been done,” he announced. “No more talk. 
Me, I hear heem say he been try keel me, me, Alexis 
Smernoff. Ha! Heem teenk he get me, eh? Me, 
I make keel heem mos’ likely. Heem say me, I 
what you say— geef double cross — Ah! heem Bol- 
shevik! keel mine boy, mine girl, mine wife. Ah! 
me, I help the gentlemen.” 

“Yes, yes, we know all that, Smernoff!” cried Mr. 
Henderson impatiently, “but what else did they say? 
Where are they?” 

The Russian spread his palms and shrugged his 
shoulders expressively. 

“Heem no say notting more,” he declared. “Me, 
I no know where heem be. Heem make to talk from 
87 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


boat, heem talk from how you call it — ^boat same 
like thees fellow.” 

“From a submarine?” cried Mr. Pauling. 

“Sure, that eet,” replied Smemoff. “Sutmavine 
you call heem? Ah, he same like thees only more 
beeg.” 

“Then they have got another sub!” exclaimed 
Rawlins. “I knew it! Darn it all, why didn’t we 
get him here first thing? We might have got wise 
to where they are.” 

“Possibly,” agreed Mr. Pauling, “but I doubt 
it. They would not be likely to give away any se- 
crets.” 

“Now see here, Smernoff!” cried Mr. Henderson 
sharply. “You want to be free — you want to go to 
Riussia. Well, you tell us where we’ll find this 
crowd and I’ll get you a pardon, see? Now out with 
it! Where does the crowd hang out — ^where do they 
stay? Not the chief — I don’t believe you know that 
— but where do they keep that submarine and where 
did you live?” 

Smemoff listened, a perplexed frown on his low 
forehead. 

“Me, I no know,” he replied. “Leetle islan’; 

88 


A NARROW ESCAPE 


Me, I no know hees name. He near one beeg place, 
one place me, I hear heem say call what you call 
heem Sam Dom — San Dom — ^me, I forget heem.” 

‘‘Santo Domingo!” shouted Rawlins. “Was that 
it, Smernoff?” 

The Russian’s eyes lit up. “Sure!” he replied 
“That eet. Me I hear those fellow say beeg islan’ 
San Dom — San Dom’go.” 

“I’ll say that’s a tip!” cried Rawlins, his face 
fairly beaming. “Hitches right onto the schooner 
left at the Caicos too. They’re almost due north of 
Santo Domingo and I’ll bet it’s one of those cays. 
Come on, let’s beat it.” 

Ten minutes later the cay was a rapidly fading 
patch of green behind them and at her top speed the 
submarine tore through the smooth sea with her bow 
pointed for the Caicos Islands. 

But before they reached their goal their hopes were 
dashed, for through the air from an invisible de- 
stroyer lurking below the horizon came a long cypher 
message from Disbrow which, when decoded, in- 
formed those upon the submarine that the deserted 
schooner had disappeared — vanished as mysteriously 
and completely as had her crew, and that a careful 
89 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


search of the inlands had failed to reveal a sign of 
her or of die missing men. 

“Well, that’s that,” said Rawlins, when Mr. Paul- 
ing told him of the message, “but there’s a bunch of 
cays and islands down there. I’ll bet Commander 
Disbrow didn’t hunt every one. I’m for getting 
down in there anyway. Maybe we can get their talk 
again.” 

There seemed no better plan and so, giving 
Disbrow their position and course, they continued 
on their way, passing the Caicos low down on the 
horizon and making for the remote, uninhabited, out- 
lying cays. In the hopes of again picking up the 
Russian conversation the resonance coil had been 
fixed on the superstructure and a man was detailed 
to slowly swing it back and forth through a wide 
arc, while below, one of the boys was constantly at 
the receivers with Bancroft at the regular equipment 
listening for messages from the destroyer or any other 
source. 

Land was in sight ahead — low-lying, surf-beaten 
cays on the fringe of the Bahamas — when once more 
Tom heard the rough gutturals in his ears. Instantly 
he summoned Smemoff and with the signal bell, 
90 


A NARROW ESCAPE 


which had been arranged, notified ijie man at the 
resonance coil to hold it steady. Mr. Pauling, Mr. 
Henderson and Rawlins appeared at the same instant 
as the Russian and all waited breathlessly as the big 
fellow seated himself at the instruments. But only a 
few words came to him in the tongue of his native 
land and they were meaningless to him. Mere num- 
bers, but which, after he had repeated them several 
times and his hearers were convinced he had made no 
mistake, caused the others to glance at one another 
and to retire behind closed doors the moment the Rus- 
sian was out of sight. In the meantime Rawlins had 
hurried on deck and had asked the man at the coil 
for the direction in which it had pointed when the 
bell had sounded. 

“Southeast by south one-quarter south. Sir,” he 
replied. 

“Well, they’re not on those cays!” Rawlins an- 
nounced as he joined the others. “The coil was 
pointing southeast by south one-quarter south and 
the cays are just about due south by east. What did 
you make of those numbers?” 

“Latitude and longitude, I should say,” replied 
Mr. Paujing. “If so, where would they bring it?” 

91 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


Rawlins left and returned a moment later with a 
chart. Spreading it on the table he ran his parallel 
ruler over it. 

“If they are latitude and longitude they’re not any- 
where within five hundred miles,” he declared, “and,” 
he continued, “I don’t believe they were latitude and 
longitude. One was X 3568 and the other 46 B 15. 
Whichever way you take it that would be way out- 
side of the West Indies and I’ll bet my best hat to a 
stale doughnut that they’re some cypher numbers. 
By the jumping Jupiter! I have it! That’s the way 
the Hun planes used to signal their gunners to direct 
their fire! Those fellows on that sub are directing 
some one to somewhere. Yes, sir, and I’ll make an- 
other guess and that is they’re onto us and are break- 
ing for headquarters as fast as they can beat it. 
Likely as not those numbers refer to us. I’ll say 
that’s it! We never heard a peep from them till we be- 
gan testing that radio under water. Shouldn’t won- 
der if they were lying low not far off and heard us.” 

“You may be right,” agreed Mr. Pauling. “But 
it’s all guesswork. Of course we did not hear them 
before as we had not set up the instruments and had 
not used the resonaiice coil. But tell me, Hen- 
92 


A NARROW ESCAPE 


derson, how is it we get them on that and don’t get 
them on the regular instruments?” 

“Too weak for the latter,” replied the other, “you 
forget the boys are using three stages of amplification 
and those crystals. But if that detector is right we 
should be able to hear that other sub if she’s near. 
Are there any cays southeast by south one-quarter 
south, Rawlins?” 

“Not this side of Haiti or Santo Domingo, but 
SmemolF said they were talking from a sub so that 
don’t count.” 

“H-m-m,” muttered Mr. Henderson. “Rather like 
searching for a needle in a haystack. For all we 
know they may not be headed for their hiding 
place.” 

“No, they may not,” admitted Mr. Pauling, “but 
I think Rawlins is right in that part of his surmise. 
If the submarine picked up the schooner’s crew as we 
assume, then they would naturally go direct to head- 
quarters to report. If they continue to talk there is 
no reason why we should not trail them and eventu- 
ally run them down.” 

“Well I’m going to pump that Smernoff,” declared 
Rawlins. “I’ll bet he can tell us something. Not 
93 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


that I think he’s lying, but he’s just naturally thick 
as mud and he doesn’t get all we say to him. He 
must be able to tell something about the island 
if he lived there, and if he does I may be able to 
recognize it from his description.” 

‘‘Weil, good luck, Rawlins,” laughed Mr. Hender- 
son as the diver hurried aft. “Sorry you can’t talk 
Russian.” 

But when, an hour later, Rawlins reappeared the 
others knew instantly by the expression on his face 
that he had learned something of value. 

“I’ll say he knew something!” cried Rawlins glee- 
fully. “Had the deuce of a job getting at it 
— couldn’t seem to make him understand, but got it 
little by little. He says the island was about a mile 
long and half a mile wide, that it was high and rocky 
in the middle, that one of the landmarks was a big 
turtle-shaped rock standing out of water just off a 
point and that the men lived in rooms or barracks 
which were cut in the solid rock.” 

“That’s all very interesting — if true,” said Mr. 
Pauling, “but how does it help? There are probably 
a thousand islands of that size with similar high rocky 
centers and turtle-shaped, undercut rocks off their 
94 


A NARROW ESCAPE 


points. Why, the description might do just as well 
for New Providence.” 

‘‘Yes, except for one thing,” replied Rawlins, 
“and that of course was the last thing I got out of 
the old duck. Probably thought it wasn’t worth 
mentioning.” 

“Well, out with it! What was it?” demanded Mr. 
Henderson. 

“Rather I should have said two things,” Rawlins 
answered. “The first was the fact that there were 
rooms cut out of the rock and stairways cut from 
the rock leading up to an old fort or wall also cut 
from the solid rock. The second was that the place 
was inhabited by a sort of giant rat and that the men 
caught and ate them.” 

“Might have been China!” laughed Mr. Pauling. 

“Yes,” agreed Rawlins, “but it’s not. I know the 
place as well as I do my own island back in the 
Bahamas. There’s only one island in the West 
Indies that it could be. There aren’t many with 
ruins of forts cut from solid rock. I don’t know of 
another that has them and a turtle-shaped rock off 
the point, and I can swear there’s not another that has 
both those and the big rats as he calls them — the 
95 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


Jutias — and that’s a little island off Santo Domingo 
known as Trade Wind Cay.” 

‘‘Jove!” exclaimed Mr. Henderson. “Are you 
sure of that?” 

“I’ll stake my life on it,” replied Rawlins 
soberly. “I’ll bet, if we head for Trade Wind Cay, 
we’ll find their hang-out. And here’s another bet — 
or hunch, or whatever you want to call it. Smernoff 
says it never took over a day for the sub to go to the 
chieFs place and return. Now there’s no blamed 
bit of land within half a day’s run of that cay ex- 
cept Santo Domingo and it’s dollars to brass tacks 
the old High-Muck-a-Muck hangs out there. Mighty 
good place too — lot of it wild and uninhabited, 
plenty of caves, fine hidden harbors and bush every- 
where.” 

“Rawlins you should be in the Service!” de- 
clared Mr. Pauling enthusiastically. “You’ve the 
imagination, the perseverance, the energy and the 
logic. I believe you’re right. I’m with you for 
Trade Wind Cay.” 

“Well I had a sort of an idea I was in the Service, 
just at present,” laughed Rawlins, “and if the old sub 
don’t bust or run aground or shake herseK to pieces 
96 


A NARROW ESCAPE 


we’ll be within sight of that cay inside of three days.” 

No further messages were heard that day and all 
through the night they kept steadily on. The last 
bit of land had dropped from sight and far off on the 
southern horizon a faint misty cloud hung which 
Rawlins and Sam both insisted was the higher moun- 
tain tops of Haiti or Santo Domingo. Then, just be- 
fore noon, the man in the conning tower called down 
the speaking tube to those below. 

“Sail ahead!” he announced. “Looks like a 
schooner and about three points off our port bow.” 

Ordinarily the sighting of a schooner would have 
caused no interest or excitement and would merely 
have called for submergence until out of sight, but 
with the knowledge that the mysterious submarine 
was somewhere in* the surrounding waters and re- 
membering the strange disappearance of the schooner 
reported by Disbrow, those on board the submarine 
hurried on deck to have a look. 

“It’s a schooner all right,” declared Rawlins, after 
studying it through his glasses, “and it fits the de- 
scription of the one that Disbrow lost to a ‘T.’ Shall 
we run over and have a look at her?” 

“I suppose it would be wise,” agreed Mr. Pauling, 
97 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 

“but how about being seen? I think we had better 
submerge and watch her through the periscope. If 
it’s another schooner we can get away without being 
seen — I doubt if these West Indians would notice a 
periscope — and if it is the schooner we want, we can 
either run alongside and board her or else keep 
watch at a safe distance and perhaps secure valuable 
information as to her objective.” 

A few moments later only the submarine’s peri- 
scope was visible above the sea, and below, Rawlins, 
Mr., Pauling and the navigating officer kept their 
eyes glued to the eye-pieces. Now the schooner was 
plainly visible, even from the low elevation of the 
periscope, and as they drew ever nearer Rawlins no- 
ticed something peculiar about her. Although she 
had all lower sails spread they were drawing but 
little in the light wind and yet she was moving at a 
fairly good speed. 

“I’ll be hanged!” Rawlins suddenly exclaimed. 
“She’s being towed!” 

“Being towed?” repeated Mr. Pauling. “There’s 
nothing towing her.” 

“Nothing!” almost shouted the diver. “Nothing! 
By all that’s holy she’s being towed by a submarine!” 


A NARROW ESCAPE 


“Yes, Sir, that’s what she is. Sir,” responded the 
navigator in matter-of-fact tones. “Shall we put a 
shot across her bows. Sir?” 

Mr. Pauling burst out laughing despite the excite- 
ment and surprise of their discovery. “This is not 
wartime,” he replied. “We’d get into no end of 
trouble by such methods. That schooner is flying 
the British flag and for all we know to the contrary is 
an honest vessel in distress being towed by one of our 
own submarines.” 

“What the deuce is up now!” interrupted Rawlins. 
“Look there! She’s stopped! Say, yes, darned if 
she isn’t. Jumping jiminy, the sub’s cut loose!” 

“She’s no longer moving,” admitted Mr. Hender- 
son. “Perhaps they’re waiting for us.” 

“No, the sub’s gone!” declared Rawlins. “Don’t 
you think so. Quartermaster?” 

The quartermaster, a grizzled but husky old sea 
dog, gazed silently for a minute. 

“Yes, Sir,” he replied, “she seems to has. Sir. 
Sorry we couldn’t have bumped her. Sir.” 

By now the schooner was close at hand and Raw- 
lins was on the point of suggesting that they should 
run alongside and board her when Frank shouted 
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RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


that there was a queer noise in the receivers. 

“It sounds like a hard wind or an electric fan,” he 
cried. “Come on and listen. What do you suppose 
it is?” 

“The sub’s screw!” replied Rawlins. “I’ll bet 
she’s hustling. Shall we board that schooner?” 

“Better,” replied Mr. Pauling, and orders were at 
once given to emerge. As the submarine, her decks 
awash, approached the schooner, those upon the un- 
der-sea boat’s superstructure gazed curiously at the 
craft they had overhauled. That she was the missing 
schooner they had sought all were sure, for she fitted 
the descriptions perfectly and the fact that she had 
been towed by a submarine was still further evidence. 
They were now within a few hundred yards and yet 
not a soul had appeared upon the schooner’s decks. 

“Darned if she isn’t deserted again!” exclaimed 
Rawlins. “I’ll ” 

At that instant the schooner’s masts seemed to 
spring into the air; a burst of flames and smoke shot 
from her decks, there was a terrific detonation and as 
the submarine rolled, pitched and rocked to the force 
of the explosion those upon her clutched wildly for 
support while all about fell bits of torn and shattered 
100 


A NARROW ESCAPE 


rigging, spars and canvas. Scared and white-faced 
those upon the submarine stared at one another, 
steadying themselves with their grasp of the hand- 
rails, soaked to the waist by the great waves that had 
washed over the half-submerged craft and speechless 
with the surprise and shock of the explosion. Only 
bits of wreckage marked the schooner. She had been 
blown to atoms. 


CHAPTER VI 


ON THE TRAIL OF THE SUBMARINE 

R awlins was the first to recover from the 
shock. ‘TTl say that was a close shave!” 
he cried. “The dirty skunks! Missed us 
though and a miss is as good as a mile.” 

Then, before any one had time to speak, he sprang 
towards the open hatchway. “Quick!” he shouted, 
as he leaped down the ladder. “Down below! 
Everybody ! Hurry ! ” 

Without stopping to question and only realizing 
that he must have good reasons for his orders, the 
others rushed after him and scarcely was the last one 
at the foot of the stairs when the hatch slid into place, 
men sprang to levers and wheels and the submarine 
was diving. 

“Jiminy!” exclaimed Tom. “What on earth’s the 
matter? What do you mean by saying they missed 
us and then hustling us down below?” 

102 


ON THE TRAIL OF THE SUBMARINE 

‘‘Don’t you understand?” snapped Rawlins. “It’s 
clear as glass. They tried to get us — ^knew we or 
the destroyer were trailing them and towed that 
schooner along as bait. Had it loaded with explosives 
and figured on touching them off when we or the 
destroyer sighted her and ran alongside. But they 
failed by about a minute. Probably timed the 
blamed infernal machine for the destroyer and didn’t 
allow for our speed — darned lucky for us! I don’t 
wonder they cleared out as fast as they could leg it.” 

“Then if we’d been nearer we’d have been sunk!” 
cried Frank. 

“Simk!” exclaimed Rawlins. “Sunk! Why we’d 
have been blown to bits! But by crickey we’ll fool 
’em and give ’em the jolt of their lives ! Get busy with 
that detector, boys, and see if we can hear her screw 
again.” 

The two boys sprang to their instruments and 
clapped the receivers to their ears. 

“But what do you mean about surprising them?” 
asked Tom, still confused and puzzled. 

“Why they’re down at the bottom now waiting, 
but they’ll be up having a look around to see if they 
made a good job of us,” explained Rawlins, “and 
103 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


while they’re squinting at the water and patting 
themselves on the back for their cleverness we’ll just 
bob up alongside.” 

“But they may run into us,” objected Frank. “If 
they’re moving around down here, and they’ll hear 
our screws too.” 

“Don’t you worry, son,” replied Rawlins. “We’re 
on hard bottom ten fathoms deep and quiet as a mouse 
and they’ll be on the surface looking for oil or 
wreckage. And by glory I’ll bump ’em, as the 
quarter-master says — that is, if I may, Mr. Paul- 
mg. 

“H-m-m,” muttered Mr. Pauling. “I don’t think 
they’re worthy of any consideration. They evidently 
tried to destroy us and are no better than pirates. I 
guess we’ll be perfectly safe in firing on them if 
necessary. But don’t sink them first thing, Rawlins. 
Put a shot over them — close enough to let them know 
we mean business. They can give us valuable in- 
formation if we capture them, but dead men don’t 
talk.” 

“You bet I’ll show ’em we mean business!” de- 
clared Rawlins. “I handlefd a gun and crew during 
the war and I bet my bottom dollar I can slam a shell 
104 


ON THE TRAIL OF THE SUBMARINE 

so close to ’em it will take their hats off without rum- 
pling their hair.” 

“Oh, I hear that whirring again!” cried Frank 
excitedly. 

“Me too!” added Tom. 

Bancroft grabbed the receivers and put them on. 
For an instant he listened attentively and to his ears 
came the steady unmistakable swishing whir of a 
vessel’s screw, the sound Frank had so aptly compared 
to a heavy wind. 

“She’s a-coming!” announced the operator. “Not 
far off, either!” 

Rawlins sprang to the periscope and glued his eye 
to it, swinging it around throughout the entire arc of 
its movement. 

“Now they’re closer!” cried Bancroft. Then a 
moment later: “Going off again! Sounds as if 
they’re circling!” 

“I see ’em!” shouted Rawlins. “At least, I see 
their shadow. Yep — they’re circling. All ready! 
Stand by! Did you squirt that oil. Quartermas- 
ter?” 

“Aye, aye. Sir,” replied the sailor. “Ready to 
emerge, Sir?” 


105 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


‘‘Gosh!” exclaimed Tom, to whom a new thought 
had just occurred. “Perhaps they’ll drop a depth 
bomb!” 

“Thunderation!” cried Rawlins, “I hadn’t thought 
of that! Don’t believe they’ve got one though and 
it would be too risky to themselves. We’re going up 
now. All ready for the surprise party!” 

Then followed quick, sharp orders, men scurried 
about, levers were pulled and control wheels whirled 
while Rawlins stood with his eyes at the periscope 
and the quartermaster gazed fixedly at the dial of the 
depth indicator. 

“Two fathoms. Sir!” he announced calmly. 

“Periscope’s up!” cried Rawlins. “I see her — off 
to starboard! All ready? Come on!” 

At his last word he had bounded to the ladder with 
his men at his heels, the hatch slid open and onto 
the deck they poured with the two boys, Mr. Pauling 
and Mr. Henderson bringing up the rear. 

A few hundred yards away a large submarine was 
floating, her upper works high above the smooth sea 
with a number of men gazing intently at the water 
from her decks. 

The next instant they caught sight of the craft 
106 


ON THE TRAIL OF THE SUBMARINE 

they had thought sunk and were as surprised, dumb- 
founded and amazed as if they had seen a ghost. 
Loud shouts and cries came clearly across the water 
from them, they ran hither and thither, confused, 
getting in one another’s way and utterly at a loss to 
know what to do. 

Before they could make a move, Rawlins and his 
crew had reached the gun, a shell was slipped into 
the breech, Rawlins spun the controls, the wicked- 
looking black barrel swung towards the enemy craft. 
The next instant there was a blinding flash, a puff of 
smoke, a deafening report and the wireless mast of 
the other submarine and the rails of the conning 
tower vanished as if by magic, while a few yards 
beyond her a great column of water leaped high 
in air. 

‘I’ll say I bumped ’em!” fairly screamed Rawlins, 
as he spun open the breech of his gun and a second 
shell was slipped in. 

At this totally unexpected turn of events the men 
upon the enemy submarine became panic-stricken. 
Some flung themselves flat upon the decks, others 
plunged headlong down the hatch, and still others hud- 
dled behind the rails and super-structure. 

107 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


‘‘Surrender or we’ll sink you!” shouted Mr. Hen- 
derson who had grabbed up a megaphone. 

As if in reply, there was a puff of smoke from the 
conning tower of the other vessel, a shrill whistle in 
the air and a bullet spatted spitefully against the 
steel plates within six inches of Mr. Henderson’s 
head. 

Rawlins waited for no further orders. Again 
came the flash and roar of his gun and in a burst of 
flame the entire top of the other’s conning tower dis- 
appeared. 

“Hurrah!” shouted the boys fairly dancing about, 
so excited and thrilled that they did not realize their 
danger. “Hurrah! That’ll teach ’em!” 

At this instant, Frank caught sight of a strange 
thing — a slender line of white moving swiftly through 
the blue water from the injured submarine and 
headed directly towards where he stood. 

“Jiminy!” he yelled. “What’s that? Look, com- 
ing right towards us! Looks like a big fish!” 

The others glanced towards the spot indicated. 
“It’s a torpedo!” cried Mr. Pauling. “Back her! 
Full speed astern! Quick or we’ll all be killed!” 

But it was too late. The engines had been stopped, 
108 


ON THE TRAIL OF THE SUBMARINE 


the crew were on deck and long before they could 
start the motors and get under way the awful death 
dealing torpedo would be upon them and all would 
be over. It was traveling at a terrific speed and the 
white, foaming trail of its wake was plainly visible. 
Barely 500 feet lay between those on the submarine 
and instant death. 

They were helpless, numbed, frozen with horror. 
Utterly unable to move, powerless to escape they 
stood there, the boys clinging to Mr. Pauling, the 
men with set faces, gritted teeth and grim eyes watch- 
ing the oncoming, inevitable death. 

But Rawlins had spied the torpedo as soon as 
Frank. With feverish haste he had loaded his gun; 
like a madman he swung it and depressed the barrel 
all unnoticed by those who were watching the on- 
coming torpedo and were hoping against hope, pray- 
ing with heart and soul that by some miracle, some 
chance, it might miss, might fail to explode. 

And as they prayed the miracle happened. A 
flash, a roar and where, an instant before, the torpedo 
had been, a huge column of water and foam sprung 
like a gigantic geyser high in air. There was terrific 
detonation, a concussion that threw the boys flat upon 
109 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


the deck, a shower of spray and as the submarine 
rocked, reeled and plunged to the waves the white- 
faced boys rose trembling and shaken to their feet. 
They were saved! Rawlins’ skill had won, his well- 
aimed shot had been the answer to their prayers! 

But Rawlins seemed suddenly to have gone mad. 
He was leaping, dancing and shouting. 

“Dam their hides!” he screamed. “They got 
away! They’ve submerged! By glory if I’d only 
had another shot at ’em!” 

It was true. Where the other submarine had been 
the water stretched unbroken, unruffled even by a 
periscope. 

“Get down below!” ordered Rawlins racing to- 
wards the group upon the deck. “They may fire an- 
other torpedo or ram us! It’s risky up here!” 

Pellmell after him the others pushed down the 
ladder and an instant later the submarine was once 
more under the sea while Rawlins swung the peri- 
scope about and Bancroft listened at the detector. 

“I’m getting them,” he announced presently, “but 
pretty well off. Yes, getting fainter all the time. 
Expect they’re only too glad to get away.” 

“Oh, hang the luck!” cried Rawlins flinging down 
110 


ON THE TRAIL OF THE SUBMARINE 


his cap. ^‘Why didn’t I shoot a bit lower and dis- 
able ’em!” 

‘‘Why, man, you saved us!” cried Mr. Pauling, 
grasping Rawlins’ hand and patting him on the shoul- 
der. “You made a wonderful hit! Absolutely mar- 
velous! Aren’t you satisfied with that?” 

“We owe you our lives,” put in Mr. Henderson. 
“It was the finest thing I’ve ever seen — wonderful 
marksmanship, Rawlins.” 

Rawlins flushed. “Oh, shucks!” he exclaimed. 
“Didn’t I save my own hide too? More luck than 
anything else. A fellow has to depend a heap on 
luck in my business, you know.” 

“Well all the luck in the world without a clear head, 
quick mind, steady hands and a true eye wouldn’t 
have helped in that case,” declared Mr. Pauling. “I 
certainly thank Heaven for our escape — ^whether 
through luck or expert gunnery, my boy.” 

“Yes, but we might have got those dirty Huns at 
the same time,” lamented Rawlins. “If I hadn’t 
been so all-fired afraid of sinking them and had shot 
a mite lower.” 

“Don’t you suppose you did sink them?” asked 
Mr. Henderson. “I shouldn’t think they could 
111 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


maneuver with their superstructure and conning tower 
smashed.” 

“No, they got away all right,” replied Rawlins. 
“Didn’t we just hear them — and they’re beating us 
even with a shell through their upper works. As long 
as the hatches and bulkheads weren’t hit they’d be all 
right, of course they’re running blind, my shot 
carried away their periscope — ^that is, unless 
they’ve got another one — but as long as it’s open 
sea and they know their course that’s safe enough. 
Of course they’ll come up pretty soon — as soon 
as they’re well out of range of our gun; but I’ll bet 
we don’t sight them again. Guess we might as well 
go up to the top. No use ambling along down here. 
We’d better hike it to Trade Wind Cay.” 

As Rawlins had foreseen, they did not catch a 
glimpse of the other submarine and very soon the 
faint whir of her screws was lost. It was evident 
that even in her partly disabled condition she was 
a much faster craft than their own and Rawlins de- 
clared that he believed her one of the very latest 
types that were launched just before the close of the 
war and very few of which actually left German 
harbors. 


112 


ON THE TRAIL OF THE SUBMARINE 


“Funny she didn’t carry a gun,” commented Mr. 
Henderson, “and lucky she didn’t for us.” 

“She did,” replied Rawlins: “Disappearing gun, 
but they were either too rattled or too surprised to 
use it. Probably thought it easier and safer to 
sneak that torpedo at us. I’ll say they were some 
surprised when it didn’t hit!” 

“Begging your pardon. Sir, they never knowed it 
didn’t hit. Sir,” remarked the quartermaster. “They 
was all below when they fired it. Sir, and were just 
awash when you exploded it. I was a-noticin’ of 
that. Sir.” 

Rawlins slapped his thigh and let out an exultant 
shout. “By crickey, then we may get ’em yet!” he 
exclaimed. “If they think the torpedo got us they’ll 
make straight for their hang-out and think we’re done 
for. I was afraid they’d keep off and not show up.” 

Throughout that day nothing occurred. A mes- 
sage -was sent to Disbrow giving -him their course and 
the position of the Cay and the submarine kept 
steadily on her way. Early on the second morning 
a faint blur showed upon the horizon ahead and 
after studying it through his glasses Rawlins an- 
nounced that it was Trade Wind Cay. 

113 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


“Guess we’d better submerge,” he said. “If 
they’re there they’ll spot us mighty quick and when 
we get closer we’ll even get our periscope down. No 
use of taking any chances. Smernoff says they used 
to sink to the bottom off the coast and let the men 
walk ashore, so we can play that same game — only in 
a different place. But we’ll have to keep the men on 
board ready to come up the minute we need ’em. 
If there’s a big bunch on the Cay there’s no use in 
tackling them single-handed.” 

“Yes, that’s the best plan,” agreed Mr. Pauling, 
“but there’s one matter we must bear in mind. Who- 
ever goes ashore to scout must be able to communi- 
cate with those aboard here. If we use radio the 
others will also hear it and be suspicious — ^we 
have every reason to think they already know we 
are, or rather were, following them and we must not 
count too much on their thinking they sunk us. How 
can we arrange that? Have you any suggestion, 
Henderson?” 

“Have to arrange some sort of signal, I suppose,” 
replied Mr. Henderson. “Possibly by means of these 
submarine detectors. I imagine that a bell could be 
fixed to ring under water so we could hear it.” 

114 


ON THE TRAIL OF THE SUBMARINE 


‘T’ve a better scheme than that,” declared Torn*. 
“Wired wireless.” 

“Wired wireless?” exclaimed his father. “How 
can you wire wireless and what’s the idea?” 

“Why, you just run a copper wire under water and 
attach the radio sets at the ends,” explained Tom. 
“Then you can talk back and forth and no one else 
can hear you.” 

Mr. Pauling laughed. “Don’t you know that the 
electricity will run off in the water. Son?” he asked. 
“Water’s a conductor of electricity and even the 
cables have to be heavily insulated in order to carry 
the current.” 

“Well, this is different,” insisted Tom. “The 
electricity doesn’t nm through the water, it’s just the 
radio or electromagnetic waves and they follow the 
wire and don’t get lost.” 

“Who put all that nonsense into your head?” de- 
manded Mr. Pauling. “Radio is a wonderful sci- 
ence, I’ll admit, but that’s a little too fishy.” 

“Well, General Squiers did it — across the Potomac 
and used it during the war,” declared Tom, “so it 
must be so. It was in that same article that told 
about the resonance coils.” 

115 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 

“It’s quite true, Pauling,” Mr. Henderson assured 
him. “It does sound ridiculous. I’ll admit, but radio 
and the modem theory of electrons is upsetting all 
our old-fashioned ideas and Squiers proved con- 
clusively that radio waves will follow a bare copper 
wire under water. They’ll even go around comers 
or turns with it — ^not only under water, but under 
ground. It was one of those lucky discoveries that 
helped win the war, too. If General Squiers hadn’t 
discovered it we would have been in a pretty fix. 
There was not one-thousandth enough insulated wire 
on hand and we needed hundreds of times more than 
all the factories together could supply. There was 
plenty of wire, but not enough machines for insulat- 
ing it. We were right up against it when Squiers 
got his hunch and found it worked. And just as 
Tom says, no one except those with the instruments 
at the ends of the line can pick up the messages — a big 
advantage over wireless or ordinary telegraph or 
telephone messages.” 

“All right,” laughed Mr. Pauling, “I give in. 
Another miracle added to the long list of radio 
magic. I’ll believe almost anything now. Go 
ahead, Tom, you’re the radio boss, you know. Get 
116 


ON THE TRAIL OF THE SUBMARINE 


your wired wireless ready and weTI soon see how it 
works.” 

The submarine was now submerged, but with the 
periscope out, and each minute the Cay was becoming 
plainer and plainer. 

‘Tf those chaps are there, won’t they hear our 
screws and clear out?” Mr. Henderson asked. “I 
suppose they’ll have a detector on their boat or. 
ashore.” 

“I don’t see how we can avoid that,” declared Mr. 
Pauling. “It’s one of the chances we’ll have to take. 

I wish ” 

“No, they won’t hear!” interrupted Rawlins. “I’d 
been worrying over that myself, but luck’s with us 
again to-day. There’s a tramp steamer over yonder 
— heading the same way we are and with her screw 
thrashing the water like a dying whale. These lad- 
dies we’re after’ll never be able to pick up the sound 
of our little wheel. I’m going to edge over towards 
the tramp a bit so as to make it still safer.” 

“Jove, that is luck!” exclaimed Mr. Henderson. 
“I only hope our luck holds and we find our friends 
at home.” 

It was soon evident that the tramp steamer would 
117 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


pass close to the island and that the submarine could 
hold her course and yet be within half a mile of the 
tramp as she slipped by the Cay which both were 
rapidly approaching. 

“Better let Smernoff have a look and see if he 
knows the place,” suggested Mr. Henderson. “Per- 
haps he can even pick out the location of the houses 
and where the men land.” 

“All right, have him come right up then,” said 
Rawlins. “I’ll have to drop down and get the peri- 
scope under water in a minute; we’re getting too 
close to the island and that tramp to risk being seen.” 

Presently the Russian arrived and bending his huge 
shoulders peered into the eye-piece of the periscope. 

“Sure, that heem,” he announced in broken Eng- 
lish, and then pointed out a row of coconut palms 
on the western end of the Cay which he said was 
the spot where the men landed, and indicated a hill 
just to the left which he declared was where the men 
had dwelt in the old stone rooms. 

“Well, that’s all hunky-dory!” declared Rawlins 
jubilantly. “Now we’ll just drop down and run along 
easy and come to rest on a nice sandy bottom around 
the point and walk ashore and ask our ‘red’ friends 
118 


ON THE TRAIL OF THE SUBMARINE 


how they feel after the surprise party we gave ’em 
back there. Say, these chaps picked out a mighty 
fitting place for themselves — just the spot for a 
gang of pirates and thugs. Trade Wind Cay used 
to be a real pirate hang-out. Back in the buccaneer 
days they held the place and defied all the world for 
years — it was those old chaps cut the stairs and 
forts and rooms out of the living rock. Used pris- 
oners to do the work and then murdered them after- 
wards. Spooky sort of place. That’s why the na- 
tives fight shy of it; and they say there’s a lot of 
treasure buried there.” 

“I expect it’s being a ‘spooky’ placG as you say is 
one reason these men selected it,” commented Mr. 
Pauling. “They probably knew they would not be 
disturbed. But how do you account for the fact that 
they found a few natives there whom they killed ac- 
cording to Smemoff’s story?” 

“Most likely smugglers or political refugees,” re- 
plied Rawlins. “Every time there’s a row in Santo 
Domingo a bunch of the natives clear out to save 
their skins and a place like this would suit ’em first 
rate. And there’s always a crowd of smugglers 
knocking about. Or they may have been fishermen 
119 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


or settlers from some of the others islands — from 
over Porto Rico or St. Thomas way, who didn’t know 
the reputation of the Cay.” 

“Say,” said Tom, who had been listening atten- 
tively as Rawlins had been speaking. “If there’s 
treasure there perhaps we can find it. Wouldn’t 
that be great?” 

His father laughed. “If there’s any treasure there 
it’s what the men we are after have brought there,” 
he declared. “And if any was there before they’ve 
probably found it. No, Son, every island and cay 
in the West Indies has treasure on it, if we believe 
the natives.” 

“Well, some of ’em really do have and some of it’s 
been found,” said Rawlins. “First time I was down 
here I was diving for a crowd who were searching for 
treasure.” 

“Did they get it?” asked Frank. 

“I’ll say they did!” replied the diver. “Got it 
out of an old wreck — old galleon they said it was. 
I don’t know how much, but big piles of old gold and 
silver coins all stuck together with coral and old 
bronze bells and cannon. I’ve often wondered if 
they got it all. A storm came up so we couldn’t work 
120 


ON THE TRAIL OF THE SUBMARINE 


and we had to clear out. They said they were com- 
ing back, but I don’t think they ever did, and I’ve been 
meaning to have another look myself, but never got 
around to it. It’s not far from here either. Over 
close to the Santo Domingo coast.” 

“Jehoshaphat!” exclaimed Frank. “Let’s go over 
and try for it now!” 

“This isn’t a treasure hunt, Frank,” Mr. Pauling 
reminded him. “We’ve far more important matters 
on hand. Uncle Sam isn’t paying us to hunt old 
galleons.” 

“Oh, hang it!” ejaculated Tom in disappointed 
tones. “That’s what I call rotten. Here we are 
with a submarine and a diver and suits and all 
and right near a sunken galleon with millions 
and millions of dollars on it for all we know, 
and we can’t even hunt for it. It makes me 
sick.” 

Mr. Pauling laughed. “You’ll never do for the 
Service if you’re so easily sidetracked,” he declared. 
“Of course I understand how fascinating such a story 
is to you boys, but business is business, treasure or 
no treasure.” 

“We’ll have to go up and take a squint now,” de- 
121 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 

dared Rawlins a moment later. “We don’t want to 
bump into the rocks.” 

With the engines stopped the submarine was slowly 
raised until her periscope broke through the surface 
and Rawlins announced that the Cay was within half 
a mile. 

“We can’t run into shoal water blind,” he said. 
“And if we go in with our eye out they’ll spot us per- 
haps. I’d like to wait until night, but then the old 
tramp wouldn’t be wallowing along to drown the 
sound of our screw. What shall it be, Mr. Paul- 
ing?” 

“I think we’d better risk running in with the peri- 
scope out,” he replied. “Of coursej as you say, 
there is a risk of being seen, but if we’re on the other 
side of the point and they don’t expect us it’s a much 
smaller chance than we’d take by running in at 
night. It’s highly probable that they maintain a 
pretty close watch and some one is at the instruments 
constantly and they’d be certain to pick us up. Yes, 
if you keep your periscope low and go slowly, so as 
not to make a white wake, I think we can risk it.” 

So, under half speed and with the slender periscope 
barely projecting above the water, the submarine 
122 


ON THE TRAIL OF THE SUBMARINE 


edged slowly in towards the Cay, until in about 
five fathoms of water, when Rawlins brought her to a 
stop and let her slowly sink irntil she rested on the 
sandy bottom. 

“Well, we’re here,” he announced cheerfully. 
“About three hundred yards from a nice smooth 
beach. Now, how about going ashore?” 

“Better wait until dark,” suggested Mr. Henderson. 
“A diver coming out of the sea is easily seen and 
would be helpless until he took off his suit. I 
would advise laying that copper communication wire 
and getting everything in readiness for a scouting 
party after dark.” 

All agreed that this was the wisest plan and so, 
donning his suit, Rawlins entered the air-lock and 
carrying a coil of copper wire slipped into the sea, 
paying out the wire as he walked slowly towards the 
shore. He was strongly tempted to sneak to land 
among the rocks of a nearby point and have a look 
about on his own account, but knowing that if any- 
thing went wrong he would be to blame for having 
disobeyed orders, he regretfully refrained and having 
crawled as close to shore as he dared without show- 
ing himself above the surface he weighted the re- 
123 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 

mainder of the coil with coral and returned to the 
submarine. 

Before he had taken ten steps he halted in his 
tracks, listening half incredulously, every nerve and 
sense alert, for in his ears he had heard the rough, 
guttural voices he knew so well. For the time be- 
ing he had forgotten that he wore the receiving set 
and the sound of human voices coming to him so un- 
expectedly and suddenly irnder water startled him. 

To be sure, the voices sounded faint and far away, 
but that they were voices and voices of men speaking 
in Russian or some similar tongue there could be 
no doubt. 

“Confound it!” he muttered to himself. “Why 
the dickens didn’t I learn Russian! Wonder if 
they’re hearing it on the sub!” 

But he could not ask. He realized that if he could 
hear the others they might hear him if he attempted to 
speak to his friends and with this thought another 
flashed through his mind. Suppose the boys should 
not hear the Russians and should speak to him! Or 
suppose, without stopping to think, they too should 
hear the voices and ask him if he did! In either 
case the enemy would be forewarned and on the alert. 

124 


ON THE TRAIL OF THE SUBMARINE 


The only thing was to make all haste to the sub- 
marine and warn those upon it to listen and not to 
speak into the transmitters. Without waiting to hear 
more, Rawlins hurried as rapidly as possible to the 
submarine, climbed into the air-lock and soon rCr 
appeared among his friends. 

“Did you hear them?” he asked the moment he 
entered the door. 

“No, hear who?” demanded Mr. Henderson. 

“Those Bolsheviks,” replied Rawlins, “I heard 
’em not five minutes ago. I didn’t dare call you 
or say anything for fear they’d hear me and I was 
nervous as a cat fearing you fellows might call into 
the transmitter and they’d hear.” 

“We’ve been right at the instruments and didn’t 
hear a thing,” declared Tom. “Gosh, but it’s funny 
you got ’em and we didn’t.” 

“They were pretty faint and far off,” said Raw- 
lins'. “Maybe they were out of your range.” 

“No, I guess it’s that same old effect of the sounds 
inside the helmet,” said Tom. “Remember, up in 
New York, we could always hear under water better 
than ashore.” 

“Well, I don’t think it makes much difference,” de- 
125 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


dared Mr. Pauling, ‘‘but it proves they’re here or 
near here. You’d better take some one ashore with 
you to-night, Rawlins. Whom would you select?” 

“Guess it’ll have to be SmernofF,” replied Raw- 
lins. “I’ll need some one who can savvy Russian 
more than anything else.” 

“Do you think you can trust him?” asked Mr. 
Henderson. “You’re taking a risk with him alone on 
that Cay in the dark and with his old-time friends 
and comrades there.” 

“Sure, I’m taking a risk,” agreed Rawlins with a 
grin, “but a diver’s always taking risks — ^been tak- 
ing them ever since I was knee high — and a few more 
or less don’t cut any ice. Anyway, I don’t believe 
Smernoif will turn traitor. You see, he looks upon 
me as a sort of hero — saving his life and all, and be- 
sides, he’s as keen on evening up scores with this 
bunch as any of us. He’s got everything to win and 
nothing to lose by betting on us and my experience 
is that if it’s an even toss up with a fellow he’ll 
chip in with the side that he’ll gain the most 
with.” 

“That’s sound philosophy,” chuckled Mr. Pauling. 
“I don’t think there’s any danger with SmernofF and 
126 


ON THE TRAIL OF THE SUBMARINE 


of course there’s the advantage that he can use a div- 
ing suit.” 

The time dragged slowly until simdown and as soon 
as darkness fell Rawlins summoned the Russian and 
prepared to go ashore on his dangerous mission. 

“Just as soon as you get ashore, or even before, 
try this wired wireless,” Tom admonished him. 
“Then we’ll know if it works. It’s too bad you 
can’t keep it fastened to your set while you sneak 
over the island, but that’s impossible.” 

Then, showing Rawlins how to snap the wire onto 
his set, the boys bade him good-by and the two men 
entered the air-lock. For a long time after they had 
left, those upon the submarine sat silent, the boys 
listening at their receivers, the men thinking deeply 
and in their minds planning their moves should Raw^ 
lins locate the camp of the “reds.” At last, after what 
seemed an interminable time, Tom heard Rawlins’ 
voice rather thin and faint, coming in over the wire. 

“Safe ashore,” he said, “and talking mighty low. 
Can you get me all right?” 

“Hear you finely,” replied Tom. “We’ll stick 
right here. Good luck!” 

Minute after minute dragged by, the little clock 
127 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


upon the bulkhead ticked off an hour and no sound, 
or word came from shore. What had happened? 
Had Rawlins found the camp? Had he been seen 
and captured? Was he even now struggling for his 
life? Had Smemoff betrayed him? The suspense 
was nerve-racking. It anything happened to Raw- 
lins, if he failed to return, their quest would come to 
an abrupt end. They depended upon him for guid- 
ance, for advice, for diving. Never until now did 
any of them realize to what an extent everything de- 
pended upon him. 

“If he’s not back soon I’ll take a landing party 
ashore,” declared Mr. Pauling. “We’ve got arms 
and a dozen men and more. I can’t stand this un- 
certainty much longer. They’ve been gone an hour 
and a half. I’m sorry he took Smernoff. I ” 

At that moment Frank heard the long-hoped-for 
voice. “Coming back!” was all it said. 

“Well, he’s safe at all events!” exclaimed Mr. 
Pauling fervently. 


CHAPTER VII 


THE FIGHT WITH THE OCTOPUS 


A FEW moments later Rawlins appeared with 
Smernoff close behind him, 

‘‘Gone!” Rawlins announced before a 
question could be asked. “Cleared out bag and 
and baggage. We went over every inch of the Cay 
and there’s not a living soul on it. Just too late.” 

“Jove, that’s too bad!” exclaimed Mr. Henderson. 
“Looks as if they’re bound to be a jump ahead of 
us. Lord alone knows where they’ve gone.” 

“You’re dead wrong there!” declared Rawlins. 
“The Lord’s not the only one knows. We know.” 

The others leaped to their feet. “Are you seri- 
ous?” cried Mr. Pauling, hardly able to believe Raw- 
lins’ statements. “What do you mean by that, Raw- 
lins?” 


“Where are they?” demanded Mr. Henderson. 
“How do you know?” 

“You bet I’m serious,” declared Rawlins. “Heard 
129 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


’em talking. Last of ’em was just leaving and I had 
one devil of a time stopping old Smemoff from run- 
ning amuck and doing up the bunch single-handed. 
They’ve gone over to Santo Domingo where the 
Grand Panjandrum stops.” 

“Well, for Heaven’s sake, begin at the beginning 
and tell us what happened,” cried Mr. Pauling. 
“First you announce they’ve all gone and then you 
talk about hearing them and knowing their plans. 
Make a sensible consecutive story of it, Rawlins.” 

“All right,” grinned the diver, seating himself. 
“We got ashore all right and I called the boys and 
heard them — say you must have been shouting, Tom 
— and then we took off the suits, tucked ’em out of 
sight among the brush and started overland, Smemoff 
leading. Found a nice spot overlooking the beach 
and there was a bunch of men standing by a pile of 
dunnage and jabbering away to beat the band. Old 
Smemoff wanted to butt right in and clean up the 
crowd, but I managed to stop him. Thought he’d 
spoil the game by yelling or something. Well, 
after Fd got him quieted down we sneaked in close 
— they were so blamed busy gassing away they 
wouldn’t have seen us if we’d walked in and said 
130 


THE FIGHT WITH THE OCTOPUS 

‘how*de-do.’ Got close enough so Smemoff could 
understand them and told him not to try to translate, 
but just to take it all in and tell me later. I thought 
at first of coming back and reporting, but I could 
see they were just ready to clear out and knew they’d 
be gone before we could get over here and back and 
decided the talk was more important so hung on. 
Pretty soon up bobs their sub — I could tell her 
by that smashed conning tower — and a boat comes 
ashore and takes off the bunch. Then the sub clears 
out and we are alone.” 

‘‘Well, what did Smemoff tell you?” demanded 
Mr. Henderson as Rawlins concluded. 

“I was coming to that,” went on the diver. “There 
were so many talking at once he didn’t get it all, 
but he got enough. He says they had word this morn- 
ing or this afternoon — he isn’t sure which — that their 
sub had been attacked and was being followed by a 
destroyer, and a sub, but that the sub — meaning us 
— had been done for. And they were talking a lot 
about him — I expect he was so busy listening to that 
part he couldn’t get all the rest — swearing vengeance 
on him for betraying them. They knew about his 
getting away and doing up a few ‘reds’ in New York 
131 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 

— though how the dickens they got the news beats 
me, and one of the men from the sub — he’d come 
ashore in a diving suit to see if the coast was clear 
— ^was telling them how Smernoff and his mate had 
betrayed the sub in the East River and the narrow 
escape they’d had. Funny how they got the idea 
old Smernoff did that when really they deserted him. 
Anyhow they were mad as hornets when their nest’s 
been poked by a kid and at the same time they didn’t 
dare wait for the destroyer to come up, so all hands 
decided to pack up and go over to Santo Domingo. 
It seems they’ve a place all ready over there close 
to the big chief’s and had been planning to move for 
some time. Now, just where that is I don’t know, but 
Smernoff says they talked about a cave and I heard 
one of ’em say something about Cana Honda. Over 
Cana Honda way there are lots of caves so I’ve 
got a hunch the whole shooting match are beating it 
for over that way.” 

‘‘You’ve done a good night’s work, Rawlins!” cried 
Mr. Pauling. “You did quite right in listening 
rather than notifying us. All we wanted of this 
crowd was information — it’s the head of the gang 
we’re after — and we’ve got what we want, or nearly 
132 


THE FIGHT WITH THE OCTOPUS 


what we want — ^without capturing or alarming them, 
which is a big point. Always keep the other fellow 
guessing in this game is a good thing to remember 
— let him think he’s safe and he’ll be less careful. 
I imagine you are right about the locality, your 
hunches have proved very accurate so far, so let 
us get under way for Cana Honda.” 

“No hurry,” declared Rawlins. “Those chaps 
won’t be over there until morning and I don’t want 
to take any chances of bumping into them or a 
reef at night. We can get started and loaf along 
a little later, but we want to be dead careful or 
they’ll hear us. They think we’re at the bottom 
of the Caribbean so we’ll let ’em keep on thinking 
so. If they are at Cana Honda we won’t have much 
trouble finding them. We can either pick them up 
by radio or spot them by smoke. They can’t cook 
without fire and where there’s fire there’s smoke. 
My plan would be to wait until nearly daylight and 
then start and take it easy and submerge before we get 
in sight of Cana Honda. Then slip in, find a good 
hiding place and do our hunting in small boats or 
afoot after dark. A sub’s a mighty poor sort of 
thing to go moseying around with. If we locate them 
133 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


we can slip off, notify Disbrow and corral the whole 
bunch.” 

For a few moments Mr. Pauling was silent, think- 
ing deeply. 

“Yes,” he assented at last. “That will be the 
best plan. No use in rushing matters to such 
an extent that we overdo it. And I quite agree with 
you in regard to tracing them. As you say, a sub- 
marine is too clumsy and large a craft for scouting 
— it’s too easily seen or heard.” 

Everything being thus arranged, the submarine was 
raised to the surface, anchored securely and the oc- 
cupants retired. The boys, however, got little sleep, 
for they were nervous and excited and filled with 
expectation of thrilling adventures to come. 

As soon as the first faint streaks of dawn showed 
upon the horizon, the anchor was hauled in and, 
swinging her bow towards the dim, black bulk that 
marked the mountains of Santo Domingo to the west- 
ward, the submarine slipped silently from Trade 
Wind Cay. 

Hour after hour they moved steadily across 
the calm blue sea and as they drew ever nearer to the 
big island the boys gazed upon it with wonder. They 
134 


THE FIGHT WITH THE OCTOPUS 


had never dreamed that an island could be so large. 
They had imagined, from the tiny dot that represented 
Santo Domingo in their geographies, that it would 
be a low, flat spot somewhat like the Bahamas, but 
a little larger, and now before them, they saw what 
appeared to be a continent. As far as eye could 
see on either hand the forest-covered hills stretched 
away. Inland and up from the shores rose tier after 
tier of mountains, the farthest nearly two miles in 
height and half -hidden in clouds, and between them 
were immense valleys, deep ravines and wide 
plateaus. And everywhere, from sea to topmost 
mountain peaks, the vivid green of forest and 
jungle, broken only by a few isolated patches of 
light-green sugar cane upon the lower hill slopes or 
in the valleys. 

‘‘Jiminy!” exclaimed Tom. “That is an is- 
land!” 

“ITl say ’tis!” agreed Rawlins. “Mighty fine 
one too.” 

“It’s beautiful — but awfully wild-looking,” de- 
clared Frank. “Is it full of Indians and wild ani- 
mals?” 

Rawlins laughed heartily. “Wildest animals are 
135 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


the natives,” he assured them, “and the old Spaniards 
killed off the last poor Indian over two hundred 
years ago.” Then, a moment later, he continued: 
“By the way, speaking of Spaniards, that old gal- 
leon I told you about is right over yonder. See 
that line of reefs? Well, she’s just on the outer edge 
of those in about 20 to 25 fathoms.” 

“Oh, Gosh! why won’t Dad let us stop and go down 
to it?” cried Tom. 

“Say, perhaps he will!” exclaimed Frank jubi- 
lantly. “He wouldn’t before, but now he’s in no 
hurry — they can’t go in shore until dark — and I’ll 
bet he’d just as lief wait out here as anywhere else. 
Let’s ask him.” 

At first Mr. Pauling refused to listen to the boys’ 
pleading, but when Rawlins pointed out that they 
had time to kill and added that he personally would 
like to have a look at the old wreck, Tom’s father 
yielded. 

“Very well then,” he agreed, “but don’t waste any 
time. We’ll expect you to bring up a fortune, Raw- 
lins. Let us know when you go down so we can see 
the fun.” 

“And for heaven’s sake take care of yourself,” 
136 


THE FIGHT WITH THE OCTOPUS 


added Mr. Henderson. “If anything happens to 
you where will we be?” 

“Oh, I’ll be safe enough,” laughed Rawlins. “I’m 
safer under water than on top any day.” 

“Come on then!” cried Tom, “let’s get our suits 
ready.” 

“No, boys, you’re not going down here,” declared 
Rawlins. “Too deep.” 

“Oh, confound it all!” cried Frank. “Everything 
has to be spoiled. What’s the use if we can’t go 
down to the old wreck?” 

“You can look through the underseas ports and 
watch me,” Rawlins reminded them. “Honest, I’m 
sorry you’re disappointed, but this is real diving. 
I’ll have to use my regulation suit here too. Too 
deep for those self-contained ones.” 

For a time the disappointed boys sulked, but pres- 
ently, realizing that there were limits to what they 
could expect to do and also realizing that they were 
more than fortunate to be able to watch Rawlins as he 
investigated the old galleon, their high spirits returned 
and they became as interested, excited and enthusi- 
astic as ever. 

The submarine was now close to the spot where 
137 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 

Rawlins stated the wreck had been before and he 
busied himself gettiag out his suit, oiling and testing 
the air pump and making everything ready while the 
submarine slowed down and came to a stop. 

“It’s a heap easier now — ^with a submarine,” said 
Rawlins, as he slid back the heavy metal cover to the 
thick glass port. “We can look about a bit and locate 
the wreck before I go down. Last time it took us 
nearly a month to find it. You see, it’s too deep to 
see bottom from the surface and — lodk here, boys — 
ever see anything prettier than that?” 

The boys crowded to the small port and stared out 
It was like the sea-gardens at Nassau multiplied and 
glorified a thousandfold. The submarine was now 
submerged and floating at a slight angle a few fath- 
oms above the bottom and her powerful electric 
lights, such as Rawlins used in his sub-sea photog- 
raphy, were casting a brilliant beam of soft green- 
ish light upon the ocean floor and the marvelous 
growths which covered it. The boys, dry and safe 
within the submarine, could scarcely believe they 
actually were gazing at the bottom of the sea. It 
was more like some strange and marvelous painting 
or, as Tom said, like the models on exhibition in the 
138 


THE FIGHT WITH THE OCTOPUS 


American Museum. It was all unreal, weird, beau- 
tiful, unbelievable. On all sides was a dim, green 
void, with half -revealed forms, shadowy outlines and 
indistinct objects showing through it as through a 
heavy green curtain, while the beam of light, stabbing 
through the water gave the effect of the curtain being 
drawn aside to disclose the beauties and wonders be- 
hind it. Back and forth in this light clear space 
flitted gaudy fishes; fishes of grotesque form; fishes 
with long, trailing opalescent-hued fins; fishes large 
and fishes small; and once the boys cried out in mo- 
mentary alarm and drew quickly back from the glass 
as an ugly hammer-headed shark, six feet or more in 
length, bumped his clumsy-looking head against the 
port. 

“Gosh! Mr. Rawlins, aren’t you afraid to go down 
among those fellows?” cried Tom. 

“Not in the least,” Rawlins assured him. “They 
won’t touch a man in a diving suit — come up and rub 
their backs against him or stare at him, but never 
anything else. They’re a blamed nuisance at times 
— get in a man’s way, but we can drive ’em off by hit- 
ting them. Look, there’s a moray!” 

As he spoke, an immense greenish, snake-like eel 
139 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


wriggled past so closely the boys could see his throb- 
bing gills. 

“They’re worse than sharks,” Rawlins told them. 
“Bite anything and savage as tigers. Good to eat 
though.” 

But the boys found the other wonders and beauties 
even more interesting than the fishes. Gigantic cup- 
shaped sponges grew upwards for six or seven feet. 
Immense sea -fans and sea-plumes formed a forest that 
might have been of futuristic palms. Huge orange, 
green and chocolate domes of brain corals were piled 
like titanic many-colored fruits. There were great 
toadstool-like mushroom corals of lavender, pink 
and yellow and everywhere, above all, the wide- 
branching, tree-like madrepores or stag-horn corals of 
dull fawn-brown. Back and forth among this forest 
under the sea darted schools of tiny jewel-like fishes ; 
great pink conchs crawled slowly about; a little flock 
of butterfly squids shot past, gleaming like bits of 
burnished metal in the light; ugly long-legged giant 
spider crabs scuttled into their shelters among the 
corals and ever5rwhere the ocean’s floor was dotted 
with huge starfishes, brilliant sponges, big black sea- 
cucumbers and crabs and shells by hundreds. 

140 


THE FIGHT WITH THE OCTOPUS 


“Jove, it’s the most wonderful sight I’ve ever seen!” 
declared Mr. Henderson who, with Mr. Pauling, was 
also gazing at this wonderland beneath the sea. 

“Yes, simply marvelous!” agreed the other. 
“Boys, I’m mighty glad I gave in. I wouldn’t have 
missed this for anything. No wonder you’re fascin- 
ated by a diver’s life, Rawlins!” 

“But I want to see that wreck!” cried Tom. “Do 
you suppose it’s gone?” 

“Ought to be pretty close to it by now,” said Raw- 
lins. “Yes, there ’tis! See it, boys? Look, over 
beyond that big bunch of sea-fans!” 

The boys strained their eyes in the direction Raw- 
lins pointed, but could see nothing that even remotely 
resembled a wreck. 

“No, I can’t see it,” admitted Tom, at last. 

“Neither can I,” said Frank. 

“Why it’s plain as can be,” declared Rawlins. 
“Can’t miss it.” Then, an idea occurring to him, he 
burst into a hearty laugh. “Why, I suppose you’re 
looking for a ship!” he cried. “Masts and stem and 
rails and all! Nothing like that, boys. This old 
hooker’s been down here a couple of hundred years 
and more. She’s just a mass of coral now. See that 
141 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


sort of mound there — ^that one with that lop-sided 
stag-hom coral growing out of one side?” 

“Oh, yes, I see that,” declared Tom. “Is that the 
wreck?” 

“ITl say ’tis,” Rawlins assured him. “Well, we’re 
near enough. Too bad we can’t let the old sub down 
to the bottom, but it’s too rough. I guess she’ll be 
pretty steady here though — isn’t any current or those 
sea-rods would be waving.” 

“But I don’t understand how you can go down with 
life-lines and things when the submarine is under 
water,” said Frank. “I thought we’d have to be on 
the surface.” 

“And I don’t see why it makes any difference about 
the suits, no matter how deep it is,” added Tom. 

“I don’t use life-lines and Things’ when I’m diving 
from a sub,” explained Rawlins. “In the first place 
they’re no use. When a fellow goes down from the 
surface he can’t be seen and so he has to have a sig- 
nal line and a rope for hauling him up. But down 
here I can come back to the sub whenever I please and 
just climb into the air-lock on the ladder, and if I 
want to signal I can do it without any line — ^just wave 
my hands — as you can see me all the time. The air- 
142 


THE FIGHT WITH THE OCTOPUS 

hose runs from a connection in the air-lock and I 
carry a light line along just as a safeguard and have 
a man in the air-lock holding it. Of course I could 
go down in one of the self-contained suits, but the 
pressure’s pretty big down here and it’s no fun work- 
ing in one of them when the pressure outside is just 
about the limit of what I can get with the oxygen gen- 
erators. It’s different with the air — I don’t have to 
bother with that — the pump looks after it.” 

‘‘Oh, I understand,” declared Frank, “but who’s 
going to tend the line for you?” 

“Sam,” replied Rawlins. “He’s worked with me 
before and he’s a wonderful diver and swimmer. 
You see the pressure in the air-lock is the same or 
even a little more than outside and it takes a chap 
who’s used to deep-sea diving to stand that. Sam 
could go down here without a suit — ^but not for long 
of course — pressure’s too great. Well, so long. 
Keep your eyes on the wreck and you’ll see me out 
there among the fishes in a minute.” 

Rawlins entered the air-lock with Sam and pres- 
ently the boys saw him — a grotesque, clumsy figure in 
the baggy diving suit and big round helmet — labori- 
ously making his way along the bottom almost be- 
143 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


low them. Turning, he waved his hand reassuringly 
and then resumed his way towards the coral-encrusted 
wreck. 

“Doesn’t he look funny!” cried Tom, “leaning way 
forwards and half swimming along, and aren’t those 
bubbles coming up from his escape-yalve pretty? 
Say, it must be fun to be way down there. Gosh, I 
wish we could have gone!” 

“It takes years of practice to enable a man to stand 
that pressure,” his father informed him, “and even 
expert professional divers cannot keep it up long. If 
you boys should go down here you’d probably be 
terribly injured — your ear drums burst and perhaps 
your eyes ruptured. A diver begins in shoal water 
and gradually goes deeper and deeper and Rawlins 
has been at it since he was a youngster.” 

“Yes,” commented Mr. Henderson, “and some men 
never can dive. Divers are bom not made.” 

“Well it’s the next best thing to be able to watch 
him,” said Frank philosophically. “Oh, look, Tom, 
he’s nearly at the wreck!” 

Rawlins was, as Frank said, close to the mound of 
coral and sea-growth that he had told the boys was 
the wreck of the old galleon and a moment later they 
144 


THE FIGHT WITH THE OCTOPUS 


saw him stoop and begin working with the heavy crow- 
bar he carried. 

Breathessly the boys watched, thrilled with the 
idea of thus seeing a deep-sea diver at work and spec- 
ulating on whether he would find treasure. Then 
they saw Rawlins suddenly start back, almost losing 
his balance and in recovering himself the crowbar 
dropped to the ocean’s floor. The next instant Tom 
uttered a frightened, horrified cry. From among the 
mass of corals a long, snake-like object had shot forth 
and had whipped itself around Rawlins’ body like a 
living rope. They saw Rawlins grasp it, strain at it, 
and then, before the white-faced, terrified watchers in 
the submarine fully realized what was taking place, 
another and another of the livid, serpent-like things 
were writhing and coiling about the diver. 

‘Tt’s an octopus!” cried Mr. Pauling. 

“Oh, oh! He’ll be killed!” screamed Frank. “Oh, 
isn’t it terrible?” 

But they were helpless, powerless to aid. All they 
could do was to gaze fascinated and terror-stricken at 
the awful tragedy, the fearful struggle taking place 
there at the bottom of the sea before their very eyes. 

And now they could see the loathsome creature it- 
145 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


self. Its great pulpy body, now pink, now blue, now 
green; its huge, lusterless, unwinking eyes — an enor- 
mous creature whose sucker-clad tentacles encircled 
Rawlins in a grip of steel, binding his signal line and 
making it useless, reaching about as if to grasp the 
air-hose, swaying like serpents about to strike before 
his helmet. Madly the diver was fighting for his 
life, bracing himself against the corals, grappling with 
the slimy tentacles, wrenching his hands and arms 
free. Then the terrified, breathless watchers gazing 
at the nightmare-like scene saw Rawlins lift his arm 
and through the water they saw the blade of his sheath 
knife flashing in the beam of light. Again and again 
he brought it slashing down, hacking, stabbing at the 
clinging tentacles. Bits of the writhing flesh dropped 
off at the blows and a cloud of inky water that shot 
from the repulsive creature’s syphon for a moment ob- 
scured the scene. But the savage blows, the slashing 
cuts, the lopped-off tentacles seemed not to affect the 
giant devil fish in the least and slowly, steadily, inex- 
orably Rawlins was being drawn closer and closer to 
the cruel eyes, the soft toad like body and the wicked, 
parrot-like beak. 

The boys screamed aloud, the men muttered under 
146 


THE FIGHT WITH THE OCTOPUS 


their breath. Members of the crew, attracted by the 
frightened cries, rushed to the port and peered horri- 
fied at the terrible scene being enacted under the sea. 

Rawlins’ fate seemed sealed, he was now bound fast 
by the eight tentacles, even the hand with the knife 
was wrapped around by the relentless, sucker-armed 
things. 

And then, from below the submarine, a strange 
shape darted through the water — a dark form 
which, for an instant, the boys took for some huge 
fish. 

Straight towards the struggling diver it sped and 
as the light fell upon it the boys shouted and 
yelled, the men cheered, for it was no fish but a 
man! A man, naked and black, swimming at ut- 
most speed — Sam the negro hurrying to Rawlins’ 
aid! 

Hardly had those at the ports realized it was Sam 
before he was at the scene of battle. For a brief 
instant he poised motionless above the diver and his 
antagonist and tlien, quickly and gracefully as a seal, 
he plunged straight down at the octopus. There was a 
flash of steel in the light, the water was blackened with 
the polyp’s ink. Through the thick, murky, discol- 
147 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


ored water only confused, rapidly moving forms were 
visible and scarcely breathing, those within the sub- 
marine gazed and waited. Would Sam be able to 
kill the creature? Could he hold out long enough to 
win the battle? Could he free Rawlins? 

Then as the water cleared and the light once more 
penetrated the depths, rousing cheers went up from 
the watchers, they laughed hysterically, tears rolled 
down their cheeks, for slowly, painfully but surely, 
Sam was coming back, while behind him, half drag- 
ging himself along, but apparently uninjured, was 
Rawlins. Upon the bottom where he had stood a 
shapeless squirming, pulpy mass was all that remained 
of the octopus and about it, swarmed voracious fishes 
snapping at the dying, flaccid tentacles. The battle 
was over. Rawlins was safe. Sam had won. Naked, 
armed only with a knife, he had attacked the mon- 
ster of the sea, had literally hacked it to bits and 
had returned unharmed. 

“Gosh!” cried Tom. “Gosh!” and unable to say 
another word, utterly overcome, he slumped down 
upon a cushioned seat faint from the strain he had 
undergone. 

Frank swayed unsteadily and sank down beside his 
148 


THE FIGHT WITH THE OCTOPUS 


chum while Mr. Pauling and the others wiped their 
wet brows, licked their dry lips and grasped one 
another’s hands in silent thanksgiving, too overcome 
to speak. 


CHAPTER VIII 


LOST 


ONG before they had recovered from their 



fright, from the strain and the reaction, Raw- 


^ lins appeared, his face pale, but with its 
habitual cheerful grin and half -carrying Sam. 

“ITl say that was a close call!” he exclaimed, as 
he placed the negro on a seat. “Say, get some brandy 
or whisky quick! Sam’s all in.” 

As the others crowded about, laughing, congratulat- 
ing, expressing their relief and joy at his escape and 
forcing liquor between Sam’s blue lips, Rawlins was 
busily chafing and rubbing the man’s cold body and 
limbs, slapping his chest and back and giving orders. 

“Get some hot coffee,” he commanded, “and 
blankets. He’ll be all right soon. Went to pieces in 
the air-lock — couldn’t help me off with the suit and 
had a devil of a time with it. Bully boy, Sam! 
There, old sport, how do you feel?” 


150 


LOST 


A sickly smile spread over Sam’s haggard features. 

‘‘Ah’s all right, Chief,” he whispered. “Did Ah 
finish tha’ sea-cat. Chief?” 

“I’ll say you did !” cried Rawlins. “Cut him clean 
in two! Blamed lucky for me too. Here, take this 
coffee!” 

Sam gulped down the steaming coffee and was 
wrapped in the blankets and slowly the color came 
back to his lips and he took deep, long breaths. 

“You’re all right now,” declared Rawlins. “Be 
fit as ever and ready for another scrap with an octo- 
pus before dinner. Say, Sam, I can’t ” Rawlins 

swayed, his face went white as a sheet and he grasped 
wildly at a stanchion. Willing hands seized him and 
carried him to a couch where, for five minutes, they 
worked feverishly over him before he opened his eyes 
and regained consciousness. 

“By Jove, but you’ve got grit!” exclaimed Mr. 
Henderson. “Nerviest thing I ever saw! Imagine 
going through that horror and then bringing Sam in 
and tending to him before you gave in! Rawlins, old 
man, you’re a marvel!” 

Rawlins grinned and rose to a sitting posture. 

“Guess I was a bit knocked out and shaken,” he ad- 
151 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


mitted. “I’ll say it’s no sport fighting a darned 
octopus!” and then, with a whimsical smile, “Say, 
I’ll be able to make a corking film of an octopus next 
time. I thought that last one of mine was a peach, 
but it didn’t have enough pep to it. Never thought 
when I invented that rubber beast I’d ever get in 
a scrap with a real one.” 

“Oh, it was terrible!” cried Tom. “How can you 
joke about it?” 

“Easy to laugh as to cry,” replied Rawlins. “All’s 
well that ends well, you know. I guess you’re glad 
you didn’t go down now.” 

“You bet we are!” declared Frank. “Gee! I don’t 
believe I’ll ever go down again. I’d imagine there 
were devil fish waiting for me everywhere. Ugh!” 

“Never had to tackle one before,” said Rawlins, 
“and I’ve been diving for years. Well, I guess I’m 
O.K. I’ll get busy on that wreck again.” 

“Not for one minute!” said Mr. Pauling decisively. 
“You’ll just forget that wreck — at least as long as 
you are with me. If you feel all right we’ll get out of 
here as quick as we can and get some fresh air — I’m 
stifling and my heart’s still beating like a trip ham- 
mer.” 


152 


LOST 


‘‘Well, I suppose you’re the boss,” grinned Raw- 
lins, “but it’s a shame to clear out with that old gal- 
leon and a lot of loot so handy.” 

“Bother the galleon and her loot!” burst out Mr. 
Henderson. “No more nonsense on this trip. 
We’ve had enough of under-sea work to last a life- 
time.” 

Ten minutes later, the submarine was floating on 
the surface and standing in the bright warm sunshine 
on deck, with the placid blue sea about and the rich 
green island beyond, the boys could scarcely believe 
that they had really undergone such a frightful ex- 
perience. It seemed like some unreal, horrible night- 
mare, but the round raw spots on Rawlins’ hands 
where the creature’s suckers had gripped him were 
proof of the reality of the battle, and every time the 
boys thought of it they shuddered and cold chills 
ran up and down their spines. 

Rawlins made little of it, joking and laughing as 
if such matters were of everyday occurrence, while 
Sam, fully recovered from the effects of his daring 
rescue, refused to be considered a hero and was ill 
at ease and embarrassed whenever a word of praise 
or commendation was expressed. 

153 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 

Very soon Santo Domingo was so close that Raw- 
lins advised running submerged and, pointing out a 
low valley -like expanse extending far into the hills, 
declared it to be the entrance to Cana Honda Bay. 
With the periscope just visible above the sea, and 
hugging the shores as closely as they dared, the sub- 
marine was run slowly into the narrow opening while 
the boys, stationed at their instruments, listened for 
the faintest hint of a whirring screw in their vicinity. 
But no sound broke the silence imder the sea and no 
sign of another craft was seen. 

Well up the bay and behind a densely wooded 
point the sub-sea craft was run into a smaller bay and 
then, emerging, Rawlins piloted her through a crooked 
river-like channel until safely screened back of a 
low sandy beach covered with a grove of coconut 
trees. 

“We’re pretty safe here, I think,” he announced. 
“I came here once with a party of scientists and we 
camped here when we were on that trip looking for 
the wreck yonder. If the ‘reds’ are hanging out near 
here they’ll be over the other side of the bay, I think. 
Those hills over there are full of caves and it’s a wild 
country. Just the place for such a gang. We can 
154 


LOST 


keep an eye on the entrance and the channel from 
here and go snooping around after dark and maybe 
pick up a radio message or see a fire or smoke.” 

“You’ve selected an ideal spot,” agreed Mr. Paul- 
ing. “Safe harbor, fresh coconuts, a nice beach for 
bathing and safely hidden. I don’t know ho'^ we 
could get on without you, Rawlins.” 

“Well, if I hadn’t got the crazy idea of coming 
down here you wouldn’t have been here,” the diver 
reminded him. “So you couldn’t have been with- 
out me. But I’m mighty glad I’ve helped a 
little.” 

“How about fresh water?” asked Mr. Henderson. 
“Ours is getting pretty low, you know.” 

“There’s a stream back on the mainland — just over 
by that point,” replied Rawlins, “and there’s a sort 
of inner harbor here too — fine place for fishing and 
hunting, though of course we can’t bunt — and beyond 
that a big mangrove swamp that runs clean around 
to the opposite side of the bay. By going through 
that we could sne^k over around the caves without 
being seen. Devil of a place to get through, though 
— regular labyrinth. A man would get lost there in a 
jiffy without a compass.” 


155 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


It was now nearly sundown and preparations were 
at once made for the night. 

It was agreed that no time was to be lost. That as 
soon as darkness came Rawlins and Mr. Pauling with 
one of the boys should go out in a boat carrying a 
receiving instrument and the resonance coil while 
the others remained in the submarine and listened 
for any sounds or messages which might come to 
them. 

“The trouble is we cannot communicate safely,” 
remarked Mr. Pauling. “That’s the one great short- 
coming of this radio. Any one within range can hear. 
I don’t know much about the technical end as you 
know, but I can see that the man who invents a method 
of communicating by wireless secretly, or so others 
can’t hear him, will make his fortune and revolution- 
ize the science.” 

“You’re quite right,” agreed Mr. Henderson. 
“That’s why it will never take the place of wire 
telegraphy or telephone — that is, until such a 
discovery as you suggest is made. However, the very 
fact that it’s not possible to keep messages secret at 
present is to our advantage now. It’s an ill wind that 
blows nobody good, you know.” 

156 


LOST 


“We’ll hope we don’t need to communicate,” said 
Rawlins. “I don’t see why we should. If we hear 
anything and locate the gang we can come back 
here, slip away and call Disbrow. We’re in no shape 
to make an attack by ourselves.” 

“I’d like to know why not?” demanded Tom. 
“We could turn the gun on ’em and we’ve got rifles 
and pistols and everything.” 

“Sure,” laughed Rawlins. “I suppose we’d pick 
up that two-inch gun and lug it over in the small boat 
and dump it down in their front yard while they 
looked on. No, Son, if they got wise to us being 
here they’d either clean out by their sub or scatter 
in the bush or go for us tooth and nail. A crowd 
that don’t hesitate to try to torpedo us isn’t going 
to stop at a scrap and the Lord alone knows how 
many of ’em there are.” 

“Rawlins is right,” declared Mr. Pauling. “If we 
locate them we must plan to make a concerted raid, 
surrounding them on all sides and with a large enough 
force to make resistance useless. The man we want 
may or may not be there, but we must be absolutely 
sure to get him if he is. If he gives us the slip our 
troubles will have just commenced.” 

157 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 

‘‘Yes, I suppose that’s so,” admitted Tom. “Gosh, 
I hope we do find them.” 

Everything was now in readiness, the night was 
inky black, not a glimmer of light showed upon the 
submarine and silently embarking in the small boat, 
Rawlins, Mr. Pauling, Tom and two of the crew 
pushed off and were instantly swallowed up in the 
darkness. 

Sitting at his instruments and listening for any 
chance sound or message was dull work for Frank 
and his mind was constantly on what Tom and the 
others might be doing. Once, very faint and far 
away, he thought he heard the whirring sound of a 
screw, but Bancroft, who listened in at Frank’s 
request, declared he did not believe it was. 

“At any rate,” he said, “if ’t is, it’s a long way off. 
Maybe some ship outside the bay.” 

Then followed absolute silence. Bancroft, at the 
regular instruments, picked up some dot and dash 
messages flying back and forth between passing 
ships and the big station at Santo Domingo City, but 
there was nothing suspicious, nothing that hinted of the 
proximity of the men they sought. Slowly the time 
dragged on, hour after hour passed by. Frank 
158 


LOST 


yawned and almost dozed while sitting at the instru- 
ments. Would the boat never return? Had they 
heard or seen anything? How, Frank wondered, could 
Rawlins find his way in such dense blackness? 
Would they get lost in the swamp he had mentioned? 
Suppose they never returned? Perhaps they might 
be captured or killed by the outlaws. The thought 
startled him. It had not occurred to him before that 
there was any danger. But once that current of 
thought was started it ran riot in his brain. He grew 
nervous, excited, worried, and Bancroft could not 
cheer him or disabuse him of the premonition that 
something serious had happened. 

“Oh, you’d hear ’em, if anything happened,” de- 
clared the operator. “They’d call you or something. 
If they were discovered there’d be no need of keep- 
ing quiet. Trouble is, your nerves aren’t over the 
excitement of this afternoon yet. Cheer up. They’re 
all right. No news is good news, you know.” 

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” admitted Frank, 
“but just the same I’m worried.” 

Then to his ears came a faint sound; before he 
could grasp its meaning he heard footsteps overhead 
and a moment later Rawlins and Tom descended the 
159 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


ladder Mr. Pauling close behind them and Mr. 
Henderson, who had been keeping watch on deck, 
bringing up the rear. 

“Gee, I’m glad you’re back!” cried Frank. “I 
thought sure something had happened to you! Did 
you find them?” 

“Not a sign!” replied Rawlins. “Don’t believe 
they’ve got over here yet.” 

“Gosh, but it was black!” exclaimed Tom, 
“and weird. What did you think could happen to 
us?” 

Frank, rather ashamed of his unwarranted fears, 
tried to explain, but Rawlins laughed. 

“Don’t you worry over anything of that sort,” he 
told him. “We can take care of ourselves.” 

“And, as Bancroft said, if anything went wrong 
we’d let you know,” said Mr. Pauling. “Remember, 
all of you, if you have trouble or are attacked or 
anything goes wrong don’t hesitate to call for help or 
give information. Safety first is the rule and it’s 
better to lose the game by having the rascals hear us 
than to come to grief ourselves. I should never for- 
give myself if anything serious happened to any of 
us through lack of communicating with the means at 
160 


LOST 


hand, regardless of the results as far as catching the 
criminals is concerned.” 

‘‘Didn’t you hear anything on the detector?” asked 
Tom. 

“Nothing but the splash of your oars when you 
came and went and, yes, I heard something once I 
thought was a screw, hut is was too faint to be sure 
and Mr. Bancroft didn’t think it was.” 

“Funny,” commented Mr. Pauling. “Of course we 
didn’t go very far — it was slow work getting about in 
the dark — and we had to turn back as the moon began 
to rise. They are either not here or else were not 
talking through their instruments. To-morrow night 
we’ll have an hour longer and can go farther.” 

“I think the very fact that they were not convers- 
ing by radio proves one of two things,” declared Mr. 
Henderson. “Either the submarine has not come 
within speaking distance or else all are ashore to- 
gether when there would be no need of talking by wire- 
less. I imagine that, as they know the destroyer is 
looking for them, and are aware that we or those on 
the destroyer have some form of under-sea radio, 
they would be very cautious about using it and would 
do so only when absolutely necessary.” 

161 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


“Yes, and they’ll lay low for a while too,” said 
Rawlins. “They know about the raid in New York 
and about Smernoff’s escape and they wont try any of 
their tricks for a time you can bet. They’ll just 
listen and say nothing and wait until the excitement 
blows over. It’ll be like stalking a deer to find ’em.” 

“Yes, or like looking for a needle in a haystack,” 
agreed Mr. Pauling, “although I should not be sur- 
prised if they are occupying one of those caves you 
mention. Our best plan will be to make a thorough 
search and trust to luck.” 

The night passed uneventfully and the boys awoke 
the next morning feeling as if the adventures of the 
previous days were all a dream. Nothing could be 
done during the day and so, after breakfast, they 
paddled to the beach, had a splendid swim, gathered 
coconuts to their hearts’ content and came back to 
lunch with hearty appetites. In the afternoon they 
went with the two boats to the stream for fresh water 
and the boys thoroughly enjoyed themselves wander- 
ing about in the jungle while the men filled the casks. 
They had never been in a tropical forest before and 
they were filled with wonder at every turn. The enor- 
mous trees, with their wide-spreading buttress-like 
162 


LOST 


roots and the drapery of lianas; the great, broad- 
leaved air plants and gay orchids; the innumerable 
palms and brilliant flowers were fascinating. They 
exclaimed with delight at the gaudy butterflies, the 
tiny humming birds and bright-plumaged tanagers and 
were tremendously interested in the hosts of big busy 
ants carrying bits of leaves in their jaws and moving 
across the forest floor in an endless procession. Raw- 
lins told them these were ‘‘drougher ants” and stated 
that the scientists with whom he had visited the spot 
before said they used the bits of leaves for prop- 
agating a species of fungus in their nests — “sort of 
ants’ mushrooms” as he put it — on which they fed. 

Once the boys were puzzled by a shrill, rather 
pretty song which seemed to issue from the sky and in 
vain they searched for the singer until Frank’s sharp 
eyes spied a tiny atom perched on the topmost leaf 
of a tall palm — a very midget of a bird — a diminu- 
tive humming bird no larger than a bumblebee, 
whose fluttering wings and trembling throat proved 
him to be the singer. Again, they were startled by 
harsh, discordant cries and were just in time to see 
a flock of green and red parrots winging swiftly away 
from a tree where they had been feeding. It was 
163 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


all very novel and strange and to the boys, who for 
so long had been confined to the submarine. It was 
a most delightful change, and even after the casks had 
been filled and the boats were ready to depart they 
insisted on remaining, telling the men to come back 
just before sundown. 

With nightfall, the small boat again started forth 
on its search, Frank this time going with the party 
while Tom remained on board, but once again they 
returned unsuccessful. 

The following day Rawlins suggested going for a 
fishing trip and with the two boys rowed up through 
the narrow, winding channel to the inner harbor 
and for several hours caught fish as fast as they 
could bait their hooks and drop them into the dark 
water. 

Then, with enough fish and to spare, Rawlins rowed 
them into the dismal mangrove swamp among the 
maze of trunks, aerial roots and winding channels. 
This was another new and wonderful experience to 
the boys. It was low tide and between the densely 
growing mangroves the mud was exposed and with 
countless brilliant scarlet and yellow crabs scuttling 
about everywhere, across the mud, up and down the 
164 


LOST 


tree trunks, over the roots, even on the overhanging 
branches. Many of the trees with their sprawling 
roots were overgrown with oysters and the boys 
gathered half a boatload of the bivalves. Rawlins 
too showed them how the mangroves spread and 
grew by means of the roots descending from the 
branches, how the slender but tough cable like roots 
supported the trees and bound all together into a 
compact mass and how the trees, ever growing out into 
the water and accumulating mud and drift about them, 
formed land. 

“Some day,” he declared, “this whole swamp will 
be dry land. After the mangroves come black-jacks 
and sea-grapes, then palms and other trees, and at last 
it will be all forest. I’ve seen lots of places like 
that.” 

There was bird life in plenty in the swamp too. 
Green and blue herons, white egrets and scarlet-faced 
white ibis that flapped up at the boat’s approach and 
stared curiously at the intruders, uttering half -fright- 
ened, hoarse croaks like giant frogs. 

“Say, it would be fine hunting here,” declared 
Frank when, a little later, a flock of tree ducks whirred 
up and perched upon the trees within easy gunshot. 

165 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


‘‘It’s too bad we can’t shoot. Roast duck would go 
line for a change.” 

“Fll say it would,” agreed Rawlins, “but a fellow 
could hear a gunshot miles off here and it would give 
us away in a minute.” 

Night after night the boat left the submarine, 
ever going farther and farther in its search, but with- 
out results, and each day the boys amused themselves 
by exploring the adjoining woods and swamps, some- 
times with Rawlins, and sometimes by themselves. 

At first Mr. Pauling had objected to the two young- 
sters going off alone, but after they had promised 
always to carry a compass and to be very careful he 
consented, on the condition that they did not go far 
and always took along their radio set. 

“Not only that you may use it in case of real need,” 
he explained, “but also as it is always possible that 
you may hear messages. Remember and don’t use 
the set unless absolutely compelled to, but don’t hesi- 
tate if in danger or lost.” 

On their first two excursions they enjoyed them- 
selves hugely. They had caught plenty of fish, 
explored a small island in the swamp and found a 
colony of egrets and herons and had even seen a few 
166 


LOST 


of the wonderful, pink, roseate spoonbills. Also, 
they had been terribly startled when a big broad snout 
broke through the water a few yards from the boat 
and with a terrific bellow plunged out of sight. 

Rawlins laughed heartily when they told of this. 
“Just a manatee or seacow,” he said. “Perfectly 
harmless creatures and usually very shy. I’ll bet he 
was more frightened than you two boys.” 

On the third day, hoping to again catch sight of 
a manatee, and intent on exploring another small 
island they had seen, the boys set forth in high spirits, 
taking along a lunch and planning to be away until 
/afternoon. Rawlins had planned to go with them, 
promising to show them an alligator’s nest, but at the 
last minute changed his mind and decided to tramp 
inland and ascend a high hill with ihe hopes of sight- 
ing smoke which might divulge the presence of the 
men they sought. 

For a time all went well with the boys. They 
paddled to the portion of the swamp they had already 
visited, took compass bearings and continued on their 
way. They found the island they had sighted and 
spent several hours exploring it and, finding a pleas- 
ant sandy beach on the farther side, decided to eat 
167 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


lunch there. Returning to their boat they rowed 
around to the beach and, seated in the shade of the 
trees, ate their midday meal while laughing and joking 
over the clumsy pelicans diving and fishing in an 
open area of water a short distance away. Suddenly, 
from beyond a thick grove of mangroves, came the 
startling bull-like bellow of a manatee. 

‘‘Come on!” cried Tom. “Let’s go and find him. 
He’s just back of that point. If we sneak up on him 
carefully we’ll see him!” 

Hurrying to the boat they tumbled in and rowed as 
silently as possible to the point and peered beyond. 
There was no sign of a manatee, but ever-widening 
ripples on the calm water showed where some crea- 
ture had been a few moments before and presently, 
from up a narrow lane of water, they heard a snort and 
a short bellow again. 

“He’s gone up that channel,” declared Frank in a 
whisper. “Come along! He’s bound to come up. 
Gee! I would like to see one. Mr. Rawlins says 
they’re eight or ten feet long and with skin like an 
elephant.” 

Paying little heed to where they were going the two 
interested and excited boys, keen on their chase of 
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the elusive manatee, paddled up the winding channel 
among the mangroves while ever just beyond, they 
could hear the snorts or the rumbling bellow of the 
creature they were following. 

Presently they swung around a bunch of the trees 
and found themselves upon a small lake-like lagoon 
several hundred acres in extent and surrounded by the 
mangrove swamp. 

“I’ll bet he’s in here,” declared Tom. “Let’s sit 
still and watch.” 

Taking in their oars the boys sat motionless, gazing 
about the tranquil surface of the lagoon and watching 
for the expected appearance of the sea-cow. 

Suddenly Frank gripped Tom’s arm. “Look!” he 
whispered. “There he is. See, crawling up on that 
mud bank!” 

“Gosh! that’s so,” agreed Tom and fascinated, the 
two boys watched as a big, bulky, black creature 
emerged from the dark still water and slowly and with 
great effort drew himself onto the wet mud flat among 
the trees. 

“Jiminy, isn’t he a queer beast!” exclaimed Frank 
in an undertone. “Looks like a seal; and what a 
funny head!” 


169 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


‘T wish we were closer,” whispered Tom. “Don’t 
you suppose we could sneak nearer?” 

“Well, we can try,” agreed Frank. “We’ve seen 
all we can from here and if we do scare him we 
can see the way he dives. Come on.” 

Very cautiously, the boys slipped their oars into the 
water and silently edged the boat closer and closer 
to the unsuspecting creature. 

They had reached a point within a few rods of the 
manatee when the clumsy beast suddenly Rfted his 
head, peered at them with his tiny eyes in a way which 
Tom afterwards said reminded him of Smemoff, and 
so quickly the boys could hardly follow his move 
ments plunged into the water. 

“Gosh!” exclaimed Tom, “I didn’t suppose he 
could move so quickly. Oh, say, here he comes! 
Look!” 

The water where the manatee had drawn himself 
ashore was shallow and as he strove to reach deep 
water, frightened out of his few wits by the unexpected 
sight of the human beings, his broad back broke 
through the surface like the bottom of a capsized boat 
and to the boys’ excited minds he seemed headed di- 
rectly for them. 


170 


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Although Rawlins had assured them that manatees 
were gentle harmless creatures, yet here, alone in the 
big, silent, mysterious swamp, the huge beast seemed 
fraught with danger to the excited boys and they 
were fully convinced that he was attacking them. 
Grabbing the oars they strove frantically to get out of 
his way, but the boat was heavy and clumsy, the boys 
were frightened and in their mad efforts to avoid the 
oncoming sea-cow Frank’s oar slipped from the row- 
locks, he lurched backwards and before he could 
recover himself or cry out he plunged overboard. 
Had Tom not been so terribly frightened he would 
have roared with laughter at the sight, for as Frank 
fell he pushed the boat aside and was now flounder- 
ing about in water up to his waist, struggling madly 
to regain the boat while the manatee, absolutely crazy 
with fright at the splash and the appearance of the 
boy, tried to turn and escape in another direction 
and in his blind rush bumped into Frank’s legs and 
knocked him yelling and screaming head over heels. 

But at the time there was nothing humorous in the 
situation to either boy. To Frank, startled by the 
manatee in the first place and shocked and frightened 
at his unexpected plunge, the poor bewildered creature 
171 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 

was a terrifying monster bent on destroying him, 
while to Tom, equally scared, the manatee’s sudden 
turn and collision with Frank appeared as a deliber- 
ate attack. But it was all over in an instant. The 
manatee gained deep water and disajjpeared and 
Frank, covered with mud and dripping with the water, 
wallowed to the boat and pulled himself in. 

‘‘Whew!” he exclaimed as he caught his breath. 
“That ims a narrow escape!” 

Then for the first time Tom became sensible. “Say, 
I don’t believe he was after us at all!” he declared. 
“He was just frightened half to death. Golly, but 
you look scared!” 

“So would you if you’d been overboard with that 
big beast in the water alongside of you knocking you 
down,” responded Frank. “Come on. I’ve had enough 
of this, let’s go back.” 

“All right,” agreed Tom, “Hello, where did we 
come in?” 

As he glanced about he realized for the first time 
that he was not sure of his bearings. A dozen and 
more openings showed among the mangroves and try 
as he might he could not tell which was the one by 
which they had entered the lagoon. 

172 


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For an instant Frank looked about. “Over there,” 
he declared positively. “I remember that funny- 
shaped tree.” 

“All right then,” replied Tom, “I thought for a 
minute we were lost.” 

Feeling sure they were right the boys pulled into 
the narrow channel, chatting and laughing over their 
adventure until suddenly Tom stopped rowing and 
glanced about. 

“Say, this isn’t the place we came in,” he declared. 
“We never passed here. Look ahead — those stumps 
are right in the middle of the channel and we’d have 
seen them sure.” 

“Golly, I believe you’re right!” agreed Frank. 
“Say, we’ll have to go by compass.” 

Dropping his oars he reached into his pocket and 
slowly a strange expression of wonder, amazement, 
surprise and fright overspread his face. 

“It’s gone!” he said in an awe-struck tone. “It’s 
lost! Gosh, Tom, it must have dropped out of my 
pocket when I went overboard!” 

“Jiminy, that’s too bad!” exclaimed Tom. “But 
you needn’t be so frightened, we can go back and 
start over again.” 


173 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


“Yes, but suppose we can’t find the right lead?” 
objected Frank. “Then we will be in a pretty fix!” 

“Oh, we can find it,” declared Tom reassuringly. 
“If necessary we can try every one until we get the 
right one.” 

Turning their boat the boys pulled rapidly back 
to the lagoon and after a careful survey decided 
on another channel. 

“Hurrah, this is right!” cried Frank after they 
had rowed some distance, “I remember that clump 
of reeds. We’re all right.” 

But after they had rowed steadily for an hour 
the two boys began to have doubts. 

“We ought to be out by that island by now,’^ 
declared Tom. “I’m beginning to think we’re wrong 
again.” 

“I was just getting that same way myself,” admitted 
Frank. “Say, if we don’t look out it’ll be dark 
before we get out of here.” 

“Well we can use the radio,” suggested Tom. 

“Not unless we have to,” replied Frank. “We still 
have time to go back and — ^hello, there’s the island 
now!” 

Glancing over his shoulder Tom saw that they had 
174 


LOST 


reached a bend in the waterway and beyond it 
loomed a wooded island. For a moment he gazed 
at it. 

“That’s not the island,” he announced. “Look, 
it’s got palms on it.” 

“Jehoshaphat, so it has!” exclaimed Frank. “Say, 
Tom, we’re lost. We’ll have to use the radio.” 

“Yes, I guess we will,” agreed Tom, “if we go 
back to that lagoon now we’ll never get out until after 
dark and Dad’ll be worried to death.” 

As he spoke, he uncovered the radio apparatus 
while Frank got out the small portable aerial and 
erected it over the boat, dropping the ground wire 
over the side into the water. 

Tom picked up the instruments, turned on the 
rheostat and was about to call into the microphone 
when his jaw dropped, his eyes seemed about to pop 
from his head and his hand shook. 

“What on earth’s the matter?” cried Frank, alarmed 
at the strange expression which had come over Tom’s 
face. “You look as if you’d seen a ghost.” 

“Hssh!” whispered Tom in a shaky voice. “I 
hear them! I heard those Russians! Gosh, Frank! 
they must be close by!” 

175 


CHAPTER IX 


PRISONERS 


T Tom’s astounding announcement Frank 



sank limply onto a thwart. But the next 


instant he was up, and seizing the resonance 


coil, hastily connected it to the set in place of the 


aerial 


“Now signal or tell me when you get them,” he 
said, as, holding the coil horizontally, he commenced 
moving it in a wide circle. For a time Tom was 
silent, motionless, listening with every sense and 
nerve taut; then, as the coil pointed to die right, he 
raised his hand. 

“There!” he whispered. 

Presently he took off his phones. “It’s no use 
listening,” he declared “we can’t tell what they’re 
saying. Oh, thunder, why isn’t Smemoff here?” 

“Well, we can call to the folks and tell them and 
they can let Smemoff listen,” said Frank. 

“SiUy!” cried Tom petulantly. “If we called 


176 


PRISONERS 


them, these Russians would hear and either clear out 
or shut up. And, besides, I don’t believe they could 
hear them on the submarine. I’ll bet that’s been the 
trouble all along. They’ve been too far off.” 

“Well, what can we do then?” demanded Frank. 
“If we call for help to get back, these fellows will hear 
us too. We’re in a nice fix just from chasing that 
confounded old manatee. First we get lost and then 
we hear this talking and can’t even tell about it.” 

“We might row along until we lose these fellows 
and then call the sub,” suggested Tom, “if we get so 
far away we can’t hear them the chances are they can’t 
hear us. Come on.” 

There seemed nothing else to do and so, choosing a 
channel that led away from the direction whence the 
sounds had come, the boys rowed steadily for some 
time. Then they ceased rowing and picking up the 
coil Frank held it while Tom listened at the set. 

For a space no sounds came to his ears and then 
he started so violently that Frank was almost upset. 

“Gosh all crickety, Frank!” he exclaimed. “Some- 
thing’s wrong. They sound nearer than ever.” 

Puzzled and not knowing what to do, the boys sat 
motionless and speechless. They seemed to be sur- 
177 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 

rounded by the voices coming from both directions. 

“Hello,” ejaculated Frank presently, “We’re 
moving. Look at those trees!” 

Tom glanced up. It was perfectly true, the trees 
were slowly but steadily slipping past them. They 
were drifting with the current. 

“It must be the tide,” declared Tom. “If ’tis we’ll 

be out of here soon and if we reach the bay 

“Hurrah, there’s the bay now!” cried Frank. 

A few hundred yards ahead they saw the sheet of 
open water through the trees and with light hearts 
grasped the oars and started to row forwards, but 
before they had taken a stroke Tom uttered a smoth- 
ered cry, grasped Frank’s arm and pointed a trem- 
bling finger at the open water visible through a space 
between the mangroves. 

“Look, Frank! Look!” he whispered 
Less than two hundred yards distant, plainly 
visible and moored close to the edge of the swamp 
was a big submarine! No second glance was 
needed to verify Tom’s first suspicions; the shattered 
conning tower left no doubt as to the craft’s identity. 

Frank was too surprised and dumbfounded to 
speak and stood gazing with unbelieving eyes at the 
178 


PRISONERS 


submarine so near to them and so totally imexpected. 

“Quick!” whispered Tom. “If we don’t watch out 
we’ll be drifting in sight on that open water. Grab a 
root or a branch while I push the boat in.” 

Seizing his oars, Tom pushed and pulled, forcing 
the boat close to the trees until Frank could grasp one 
of the swaying, descending roots and made the boat’s 
painter fast to it. 

“No wonder we heard ’em,” remarked Tom when 
the boat was secured. “That creek must turn around 
a corner and we didn’t notice it. Say, what are we 
going to do now? We can’t wait here all night and 
we don’t know where to go and we can’t call our folks 
without those fellows on this sub hearing us.” 

“And if we could call your father or Mr. Rawlins 
we couldn’t tell them where this submarine is because 
we don’t know ourselves,” replied Frank. 

“It’s awful funny we should find it by getting lost 
after they’ve been hunting for it night after night,” 
said Tom, “and now what good does it do? I don’t 
see but what we’ll have to go back the way we came 
and trust to luck.” 

“Huh!” snorted Frank, “and get lost worse than 
ever. If this sub came in here there must be deep 
179 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


water leading to sea and if we could sneak out we’d be 
sure to find the entrance to the bay and then we could 
call our people or hunt along the shore till we found 
that beach with the coconut grove.” 

“Yes, and a swell chance we have of sneaking out!” 
Tom reminded him. “Just as soon as we went out of 
here they’d spot us, sure.” 

“Well we’ll have to wait until dark, that’s all,” 
said Frank resignedly. “Of course they’ll worry, but 
like as not they’ll call for us and we may hear ’em. 
Then if these chaps hear, it wont be our fault. I 
know your father said not to hesitate to use radio if 
we had to, but he didn’t think we’d be alongside this 
submarine when we needed to. It’s not going to hurt 
us to wait here a while and we may see something.” 

Tom’s sharp “Hisst!” caused Frank to wheel about. 
A small boat was now beside the submarine and 
several men were climbing into it. Presently they 
pushed off, the men took to the oars and to the boys’ 
horror and amazement the boat headed directly 
toward their hiding place. 

“Gosh now it’s all up!” whispered Tom in 
terrified tones, “if they spot us or our boat it’ll be good 
night for us!” 


180 


PRISONERS 


Breathlessly the boys crouched in their craft, shak- 
ing with fright, while nearer and nearer came the boat 
from the submarine. Then, when the two trembling 
boys felt that their hour had come, that in another 
instant they must be seen, the other boat swung to one 
side and disappeared in a narrow channel among the 
mangroves not fifty feet from where the boys were 
concealed. In a few moments the sound of the oars 
and the voices of the men grew faint in the distance 
and the boys raised themselves and with relieved, 
fast-beating hearts exchanged glances. 

‘‘Did you see them?” exclaimed Tom. “My, 
weren’t they a tough looking lot!” 

“Regular pirates!” agreed Frank. “Did you see 
that big fellow with the red beard?” 

“You bet, and that thin one with the upturned 
blonde mustache! Gosh, he looked like the Crown 
Prince of Germany!” 

“That dark man was the worst,” declared Frank. 
“That Indian or nigger or whatever he was — the 
one with the earrings. Gee, Fd hate to have them get 
us.” 

“I never knew Russians were such ugly looking 
people,” said Tom, “and I thought they were all light. 

181 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


That fellow with the earrings was almost as black 
as Sam.” 

“They’re not all Russians,” Frank reminded him. 
“Don’t you remember Mr. Henderson and your father 
saying they were ‘reds’ from every point of the world 
and that the big chief of the lot isn’t even a German 
although he worked for Germany. And there was 
that man that died in New York, he was Irish.” 

“Yes, that’s so,” agreed Tom, “but say, let’s get out 
of here now. They’re gone and maybe we can sneak 
away. I don’t believe any one’s aboard the sub.” 

“Well, I do,” replied Frank, “I vote we turn back 
and see if we can’t find another channel that leads out 
below here. We can tell the right way to go by the 
tide flowing.” 

“Golly, that’s so,” assented Tom. “All right, but 
we’ve got to be careful.” 

Unfastening the boat, the two boys pulled slowly 
up the creek against the current, searching the 
mangroves on either side for an opening through 
which the tide was flowing. At last they sighted 
one and with elated minds turned into it. As 
they pulled along, Tom noticed that the man- 
groves were giving place to other trees, that the soft 
182 


PRISONERS 


mud banks had changed to sand and that the shores 
were getting higher. 

‘‘We must be getting out of the swamp,” declared 
Tom. “See! the banks are high and there are trees. 
We’ll soon be out.” 

The stream they were following was now running 
with quite a swift current and the boys noticed several 
side branches or smaller creeks flowing into it. They 
had just passed one of these and were about to turn 
a bend when with one accord they stopped rowing, 
their eyes grew wide with fright and they sat listen- 
ing breathlessly. From ahead had come the sounds 
of human voices! Just around the bend were men! 

To go on meant certain discovery. What should 
they do? For a brief instant they had thought it 
might be some of their own party, but the next second 
they knew better, for the words that came to them 
were in a harsh guttural tongue — the same tongue 
they had so often heard through their receivers. 

Then, a sudden desire, an overwhelming curios- 
ity to see the speakers, to learn where they were and 
what they were doing swept over Tom. With signs 
he motioned to Frank and an instant later they had 
run their boat into the side creek, had beached it 
183 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


noiselessly upon a narrow strip of soft earth and 
like snakes were wiggling silently up the bank among 
the trees. For some strange psychological reason 
they were no longer afraid; no longer did thoughts 
of the risk they ran enter their heads. Their entire 
thoughts were centered on seeing these men, on learn- 
ing what they could, for they realized instinctively 
that they had stumbled upon the secret of the gang’s 
hiding place, that they had found what their. friends 
had been searching for night after night and that, did 
they ever regain their own submarine, their knowl- 
edge would be invaluable. 

But they were cautious. They had no intention of 
being either seen or heard and before they reached 
the summit of the bank they carefully raised their 
heads and peered between the bases of the trees be- 
yond. They had no means of knowing what lay be- 
yond that bank. It might be open land, it might be 
brush or woods or it might be water. They knew, 
however, that the men must be close at hand 
and yet, when they peered through, they could 
scarcely repress surprised exclamations at what 
they saw. 

Within a dozen yards, a boat was lying beside the 
184 


PRISONERS 


bank of the stream and just beyond, beneath a wide- 
spreading tree, two men stood talking. 

One was the big, red-bearded fellow the boys had 
seen in the boat as it left the submarine. The other, 
who half leaned upon a repeating rifle and who wore 
an immense automatic pistol at his belt, was tall, well- 
built and most striking in appearance. He was 
dressed in light, neat clothes and leather puttees; a 
broad-brimmed Panama hat was on his head, his face 
was tanned but clean shaven, except for a small, 
sharply upturned, iron-gray mustache, and in one eye 
he wore a monocle. 

So totally unlike his companions was he that 
the boys almost gasped in astonishment. There was 
nothing about him, nothing in his appearance, that 
spoke of lawlessness, of a thug or a criminal. In- 
deed, he was a most distinguished-looking gentleman, 
such a figure as one might expect to see at a meeting 
of scientists, at some state function, at a directors’ 
meeting in some bank or business house. 

But when he spoke the disillusionment was com- 
plete. His voice had the strangest sound the boys 
had ever heard. It was cold, grating, inexpressibly 
cruel and sent shivers down the boys’ backs as they 
185 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


listened. What he was saying they could not grasp, 
but that he was angry, that he was reprimanding the 
giant before him, the boys could tell by his tones, the 
hard reptilian glitter of his light gray eyes and by the 
expression of the red-bearded fellow. 

The latter, with hat in hand, fairly cowered before 
the other. His head was bent, his eyes downcast, 
his face and neck were flushed scarlet and his re- 
plies came in a low, humble, apologetic tone. 

Those in the waiting boat were silent, only the two 
uttered a single word. For a space the boys watched, 
fascinated, and then it occurred to Tom that they 
must get away, that somehow they had taken the 
wrong channel and that if they were to escape unseen 
they must leave at once, retrace their way to where 
they had seen the submarine and from there try to 
reach the entrance to the bay. 

Touching Frank’s arm, Tom signaled for him to 
withdraw and as silently as they had come the two 
boys slipped down the bank, shoved their boat noise- 
lessly into the water and crept into it. 

With fast beating hearts they paddled towards the 
larger stream and had almost reached it, when, with- 
out warning, a flock of white ibis flapped up before 
186 


PRISONERS 


them and with harsh croaks of alarm perched upon 
the topmost branches of the trees. 

The boys’ blood seemed to freeze in their veins 
and their hearts to cease beating. Would the men 
suspect something or somebody was near? Would 
they sweep down on the boys? 

Instantly, at the hoarse cries of the birds, the 
voices beyond the point had ceased and the boys knew 
the men were listening, straining their ears for a 
suspicious sound. To go on would be to court dis- 
aster. The least rattle of oars or squeal of rowlocks 
would be heard and even if no sound issued from the 
boat the slightest movement would again arouse the 
ibis overhead. There was nothing to do but wait, 
wait with panting, throbbing lungs and heart-rack- 
ing fears for what might happen next. 

But the boys did not have long to wait. From be- 
yond the intervening bank came the rattle of an oar, 
a sharp, gruff order, the splash of water. The men 
were coming! To remain where they were meant 
capture! There was but one thing to be done and 
that was to turn and pull as fast as they were able 
into the small creek in the one faint hope that the 
others might pass it by and look for the cause of the 
187 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


birds’ fright upon the main stream. Quickly the 
boat was swung round and with deadly terror lend- 
ing strength to their arms, tbe boys pulled frantically 
into the trees that formed an archway over the tiny 
waterway. But their ruse was in vain. The noise of 
the splashing oars had been heard. The disturbed 
water of the stream told the story of their flight to 
their enemies. Scarcely a score of yards had been 
covered when the boys heard the other boat follow- 
ing, heard the rough Slavic voices, and the fright- 
ened cries of the ibis. Madly they pulled and then, 
so close that the boys could not avoid it had they 
wished, the creek came to an abrupt end in a mass of 
foliage. 

Before the boys knew it was there they had 
bumped into it. Frank’s hat was swept off by a 
branch, sharp twigs and thorns tore their flesh, the 
boat rocked and grated, and realizing they were 
trapped the boys screamed in terror. Then, ere they 
grasped w*hat had happened, dieir boat had shot 
through the screen of branches, they were in open 
water and looking back they saw the fallen trees 
which had spanned the creek. Before them the 
stream turned sharply to one side. Only a dozen 
188 


PRISONERS 


strokes of the oars would bring them to the bend. 
They had almost reached it when shouts and curses 
came from beyond the fallen trees, they heard a 
crashing of the branches, the sharp reports of revol- 
vers rang out and bullets whistled past the boys’ 
heads. 

The next moment the boat shot around the point 
and, driven to desperation, thinking only of out- 
distancing their pursuers, the boys rowed like mad, 
giving no heed to direction, no attention to their sur- 
roundingjs. Then they suddenly realized that the 
sounds of their pursuers had ceased, that there were 
no shouts, no splashing of oars, no rattle of wood on 
wood. What had happened? Why had the others 
abandoned the chase? 

And then it dawned upon Frank. 

“Gee Christopher!” he exclaimed imder his breath, 
“that fallen tree saved us, Tom! Their big boat 
couldn’t get through. We’re safe!” 

“Gosh, I guess you’re right!” whispered Tom while 
the two still continued to row. “But I’m not sure 
we’re safe. There may be another way in here and 
perhaps they’ve gone around to cut us off. Say, 
we’ve got to row like the dickens and try to get so 
far they won’t find us!” 


189 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


“Yes, but we’re lost!” declared Frank. “We 
haven’t any idea where we are!” 

“I know it,” admitted Tom, “but we can’t help 
that now. After we’ve gone farther we’ll stop and 
call our folks. Those chaps back there can’t hear 
us and if their sub does, it won’t make any differ- 
ence now. They know we’re here and we’ve got to 
get out.” 

For fully half an hour they toiled on. Their 
breath came in gasps, their arms ached, their hands 
were blistered and raw, but they dared not stop. 
Then, when they felt they could go no farther, their 
boat shot out from the mangroves and they found 
themselves floating on a broad lagoon. 

“Hurrah!” cried Frank, “we’re back where we saw 
the manatee!” 

“Golly, so we are!” agreed Tom. “Well, I’m go- 
ing to use the radio now and see if we can get our 
people ” 

But all attempts to get their submarine proved 
fruitless. Over and over again they called. Hope- 
fully and patiently Tom listened while Frank moved 
the resonance coil about, but not a sound came 
through the receivers. 


190 


PRISONERS 


‘‘It’s no use,” declared Tom at last. “We can’t get 
them. What on earth will we do?” 

“All we can do is to go on,” replied Frank in de- 
jected tones. “It’s almost dark, we may find our way 
by luck.” 

“I can’t row another stroke,” declared Tom. “I’m 
all in. We might just as well lie here and rest, at 
least until the moon comes up. We can’t go on in 
the dark through these creeks.” 

“Yes, I suppose so,” agreed Frank who, now the 
excitement was over, felt utterly exhausted. “We’re 
as safe here as anywhere.” 

Drawing in their oars ' a two lonely, tired and 
hungry boys threw themselves in the bottom of the 
boat and too weary even to talk lay gazing up at the 
stars. The boat rocked gently to the tiny ripples on 
the lagoon; from the swamps came the droning chant 
of frogs and insects; fireflies flitted by like tiny 
meteors; the water lapped soothingly* against *the 
boat’s planks and lulled by the sounds and the soft 
night air the boys slept. 

Tom was the first to awake. For an instant he 
lay still, dazed, not remembering where he was and 
dimly aware of a strange, monotonous, resonant 
191 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 

sound that somehow seemed to vibrate and throb 
through his brain, the boat and the night air. 

He nudged Frank. “Wake up!” he half whis- 
pered, “wake up! The moon’s out and we’ve got to 
be going on.” 

Then, as Frank sleepily opened his eyes and 
yawned, Tom spoke again. 

“Hear that noise?” he asked. “What is it?” 

Frank, now wide awake, sat up. He too heard the 
sound, a noise so unlike anything else he had ever 
heard that he felt cold shivers chasing up and down 
his spine. 

“I — I don’t know!” he stammered. “It’s uncanny 
— perhaps it’s a frog or a night bird or something. 
Say, where are we?” 

Then, for the first time, Tom noticed their sur- 
roundings. No longer were they on the lagoon. On 
either side, rose tall trees looming black and gigan- 
tic against the moonlit sky and by the glint of the 
light upon the ripples the boys could see that the nar- 
row waterway ran swiftly. 

“Crickey, we’ve drifted while we were asleep!” 
cried Frank. “Now we are lost.” 

“Well, we’re drifting with the tide anyway,” said 
192 


PRISONERS 


Tom, trying bravely to be cheerful. ‘‘And it’s bound 
to take us out somewhere to open water.” 

“Yes, only it may be coming in and not going out,” 
said Frank. “What time is it? My watch stopped 
when I fell overboard.” 

Tom pulled out his watch and examined it’s lumin- 
ous diaL “Gosh, it’s after eleven!” he exclaimed. 
“Say, we must have slept four or five hours.” 

“There’s that noise again!” cried Frank. “What 
on earth is it? It seems to come from all aroimd and 
say Gee, look there, Tom! What’s that?” 

Startled, Tom glanced about. Far ahead between 
the trees he. could see a ruddy glow. 

“Golly, it’s a fire!” he exclaimed in frightened 
tones. “Let’s get out. It may be those Russians 
again. Perhaps it’s their camp.” 

“And the noise comes from there!” stammered 
Frank. “It’s dreadful!” 

Hurriedly grasping their oars the boys pulled, try- 
ing their utmost to swing the boat’s bow around, but 
it was of no use. The current was running like a 
millrace and despite their utmost endeavors they were 
being swept irresistibly towards the fire and that 
weird, uncanny, hair-raising sound. 

193 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 

Nearer and nearer they swept. Now they could 
see the ruddy light upon the water ahead. They 
could even see the flames dancing among the trees 
and the resonant, throbbing boom rose and fell in 
terrifying cadence through the night. Then, between 
the throbbing beats, the boys heard voices ; but not the 
harsh guttural voices of the “reds.” It was even 
worse, for the sounds borne to the boys — frightened, 
terror-stricken and helpless in their drifting boat — 
savored of savages. They were high-pitched, yet 
musical, rising and falling; one moment dying to a 
low murmur, the next rising to a blood-curdling wail. 

Absolutely paralyzed, the boys sat and stared at 
the light and the fire they were approaching. What 
was it? Through their minds flashed stories of can- 
nibals, visions of savage Indians, and yet Rawlins 
had assured them there were no Indians upon the 
island. But surely these could be nothing else. Those 
sounds — dimly, to Tom’s mind came memories of a 
similar sound he had once heard — ^yes — that was it — 
an Indian tom-tom at a Wild West show. They must 
be savages! Yes, now he could see them, wild, naked, 
dancing, leaping figures ; whirling, gyrating about the 
fire now less than two hundred yards ahead and within 
194 


PRISONERS 


fifty feet of the bank. Frank had seen them also. 
He too knew they must be savages. Would they be 
seen? Would the dancing, prancing fiends detect 
them as they swept through that circle of light upon the 
water or were they too busy with their dancing to 
notice them? Now the drum roared in deafening, 
booming notes, filling the surrounding forest with its 
echoes and the savage chant of the prancing figures 
sent chills over the cowering boys. Just ahead was 
the expanse of water illuminated by the red glare. 
In a moment they would be in it. Close to the bank 
the boys saw canoes drawn ashore, big dug-outs, 
crude primitive craft. Yes, there were Indians in 
Santo Domingo, Rawlins must have been mistaken. 
Now they were in the firelight. They held their 
breaths and then a moaning hopeless groan issued 
from the boys’ lips. Their boat slowed down; be- 
fore they realized what had happened they were 
caught in an eddy and the next instant their craft 
bumped with a resounding thud against one of the 
canoes. 

The boys’ senses reeled. They were wedged fast 
between the dugouts in the brilliant light from the 
fire and before a cry could escape them, before they 
195 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


could move, two half -naked, awful creatures, hid- 
eously painted and with threatening, waving clubs 
came dashing down the bank. 

The boys knew their last minute had come. The 
savages had seen them. Resistance would be hope- 
less. They were too frightened, too frozen with 
mortal terror to move or even scream. 

The next second the naked fiends were upon them. 
Powerful hands seized legs and feet and unresisting, 
limp, almost unconscious with dread thoughts of their 
fate, they were borne triumphantly towards the fire 
and the ring of terrifying figures. 


CHAPTER X 


RADIO TO THE RESCUE 

A S the sun dipped towards, the mountains to 
the west and the boys did not return, Mr. 
Pauling became worried. 

“I was a fool to permit them to go off alone,” he 
declared to Mr. Henderson. “Even with a compass 
they might go astray in the swamp. Boys are always 
careless and they do not realize the danger of getting 
lost.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry yet,” replied the other. 
“They have their radio sets along and would call us if 
they had any difficulties. Bancroft has been listen- 
ing for the past hour and nothing’s come in.” 

“Yes, I know,” rejoined Tom’s father, “but if they 
don’t turn up soon I shall start after them.” 

Rawlins, who had returned from his scouting trip 
and had reported that he had been unsuccessful in 
seeing a sign of smoke across the bay, now ap- 
proached. 


197 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


‘T hardly think they’re in trouble,” he said, “buS* 
I’d suggest calling them before starting a search, pro- 
vided they don’t arrive. They can hear much farther 
than they can send and I don’t believe our messages 
could be heard by the gang in the sub. We\e been 
several miles around the bay and know those rascals 
are not near.” 

“Yes, we can do that,” agreed Mr. Pauling. “Even 
if they should hear, it is of little consequence in com- 
parison with getting word to the boys. I’m about 
ready to abandon the attempt to locate the men any- 
way. Our information is too indefinite to rely upon.” 

As time slipped by and still there was no sign of 
the missing boys and no word came by radio, Mr. 
Pauling became terribly worried and even Rawlins’ 
optimism became shaken. 

Finally, as die afternoon shadows lengthened, 
Tom’s father could stand it no longer and he told Ban- 
croft to call their names and see if he could get in 
touch with them. But when, after fifteen minutes, the 
operator reported that no response had been received 
Mr. Pauling grew frantic. 

“Something’s happened,” he declared. “They’ve 
either gone too far to hear or to reply or they’ve 
198 


RADIO TO THE RESCUE 

been drowned or have met with some accident. We 
must set out on a search at once.” 

Accordingly, the boat was manned, a radio set was 
placed in it and Mr. Pauling, Rawlins aird Bancroft 
embarked, leaving Mr. Henderson, who was the only 
remaining member of the party who understood radio, 
in charge of the submarine. Sam also went along, 
for, as Rawlins explained, he had eyes like a cat and 
at Mr. Henderson’s -su^estion Smemoff was included. 

“You may hear those rascals talking,” he said, 
“and if you do you’ll need him.” 

Rawlins remembered hearing the boys speak of the 
island they wished to explore and knew more or less 
the direction they had gone. It was no easy matter 
to find an island in the swamp largely by guesswork, 
but luck favored and just before dark they sighted 
the higher trees and firm land of the island where the 
boys had lunched. Calling frequently, both by voice 
and by radio, the searching party pulled around the 
island and came to the beach. Something white upon 
the sand attracted Rawlins’ attention and landing 
they found the paper wrappings of the boys’ lunch. 

“They stopped here to cat,” annoimced the diver. 
“Now the question is in which direction they went. 

199 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


They might have gone up any one of these creeks or 
they might have started for the mainland. It’s all 
guesswork.” 

It was now dusk and the swamp was black with im- 
penetrable shadows, but as they circled around the 
swamp in vague hopes of finding some clue or of 
hearing the boys by the radio instruments, Sam’s 
sharp eyes caught sight of a bunch of water plants. 

“Tha’ boat parsed by here. Chief,” he announced, 
pointing to the bruised and bent stems. “Ah’m sure 
of that. Chief.” 

Rawlins examined the plants carefully. “Yes, 
either their boat or some other,” he agreed. “We’ll 
follow up this channel.” 

By the time they reached the open lagoon it was 
pitch dark and their only hope lay in getting in touch 
with the boys by radio. 

“If we don’t look out we’ll get lost ourselves,” 
announced Rawlins. “You watch the compass. 
Quartermaster, and keep track of our course and the 
bearings.” 

“Aye, aye. Sir,” replied the old sailor, and once 
more the boat proceeded through the black swamp, 
Rawlins peering ahead and occasionally shouting, 
200 


RADIO TO THE RESCUE 


Bancroft constantly speaking into the instruments and 
listening at the receivers and Mr. Pauling, nearly mad 
with worry, fears and regrets. 

For hour after hour they continued, following 
waterway after waterway, traversing lagoon after la- 
goon, forcing their way through the dense swamps to 
the mainland of the island and even emerging on the 
broad calm bay. 

“If they’re lost and unable to get back they’ll prob- 
ably camp,” said Rawlins. “They have matches and 
can make a fire. In fact they’ve sense enough to 
think of making a fire for a signal. I believe it 
will be a good plan to go ashore; I’ll ascend a 
hill, and Sam can climb a tree and look about. 
If there’s a fire anywhere in sight we should see 
it.” 

All agreed this was a good plan and accordingly the 
boat was headed towards the nearest point and at last 
grated upon the rocks. With Sam, Rawlins pushed 
into the brush, stumbling over roots, bumping into 
trees in the darkness, barking shins and tearing 
clothes, but steadfastly clambering up the steep slope 
until they reached the summit. Selecting a tall palm, 
Sam proceeded to “walk” up the trunk in the native 
201 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 

West Indian fashion and soon reached the huge leafy 
top. 

Straddling the base of an immense frond*, he slowly 
and carefully swept the horizon with his eyes. From 
his lofty perch, nearly one hundred feet above the 
earth and fully two hundred feet above the 
water, the entire swamp, the numerous lagoons and 
even the broad bay lay spread before him like a map. 
Although the moon would not rise until midnight, yet 
the sky was bright with myriads of stars which cast 
a faint glow upon the water and served to distinguish 
it from the darker masses of mangroves and land. 
At first he could see nothing that resembled the glow 
of a fire, but after several minutes his eyes detected a 
faint light among the trees several miles away and 
apparently on the mainland across the bay. 

As he watched, the spot grew brighter, it took on a 
pinkish tint and seemed to spread, until at last, it 
was a distinct ruddy light which he knew beyond the 
shadow of a doubt was a fire. Carefully taking bear- 
ings by the stars and the dark masses of the swamp, 
he slid to the ground. 

“Tha’s a fire yonder. Chief,” he announced. “Ah' 
seed it plain an’ clear, an’ it’s just started, Chief. Ah 
202 


RADIO TO THE RESCUE 


seed it fla’in’ up an’ a-makin’ brighter all the time. 
Ah reckon tha’ young gentlemens’s a-makin’ it fo’ 
a signal, Chief.” 

“That’s blamed good news!” exclaimed Rawlins. 
“You say it’s over on the other side of the bay and 
you’ve got its bearings. All right, we’ll get over 
there, but how the deuce those kids got across the bay 
without knowing it, stumps me.” 

Reaching the boat, Rawlins reported their success 
and with all possible speed the boat was pulled 
through the winding channels of the swamp in the 
direction Sam indicated. But it is one thing to take 
a sight and bearings from a tree top on a hillside 
and quite another matter to follow those bearings 
and directions through a mangrove swamp filled with 
twisting, devious channels. How Sam could manage 
to keep the general course at all was little short of 
marvelous, but as the boat turned bend after bend, 
doubled on its track, found its way blocked and made 
detours, the Bahaman never missed his general sense 
of direction, and at last the searching party emerged 
from the swamp and on the broad expanse of the bay. 

Sam glanced about, squinted at the stars and 
indicated the course to follow. As they rowed swiftly 
203 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


across tiie bay towards the opposite shores, Rawlins 
spoke. 

“Say!” he exclaimed. “It may not be the 
boys after all. I’ve been puzzling all along how 
they could get over there and I’m beginning to think 
it’s those chaps we’re after and not the boys.” 

“Jove! you’re right,”' cried Mr. Pauling, “and, 
good Lord! perhaps they’ve found the boys and taken 
them prisoners! If the boys used their radio to call 
us the others may have heard it and located them. 
What an addle-headed fool I’ve been to take such 
risks! No wonder we haven’t heard them or got 
them. Probably they’re helpless — ^bound and gagged 
and those devils are chuckling to themselves as they 
hear our calls and are luring us into a trap.” 

“Well, if they’ve touched those kids I’ll say there’ll 
be some rough-house work when we step into that 
trap,” declared Rawlins, “and they’ll find they’ve 
bitten off a darned sight bigger hunk than they can 
swallow without choking. We’ve got arms, I slipped 
’em in the boat, and we’re no crew of tenderfeet. 
Sam’s some little scrapper and the quartermaster was 
champion middle-weight of the Atlantic squadron, 
old Smemoff’s itching for a fight with those whiskered 
204 


RADIO TO THE RESCUE 


friends of his, and I guess you and Bancroft can take 
care of yourselves and Tm no quitter myself.” 

‘Tes, yes, Rawlins,” replied* Mr. Pauling, “but 
you forget that if they have the boys they can protect 
themselves by threatening harm to Tom and Frank. 
They can make their own terms and they are ruthless 
beasts.” 

“Well, Mr. Pauling, don’t let’s cross our rivers 
till we get to ’em,” said the diver. “We don’t know 
if the boys are prisoners yet. We’ll go easy and 
find out how the land lays first. Remember we can 
see their fire and what’s going on a long time before 
they can spot us. That’s the worst of a fire. The 
other fellow can see you, but you can’t see the other 
fellow.” 

“Yes, but the great trouble is, if we call for the 
boys by radio we’ll warn our enemies instead,” Mr. 
Pauling reminded him. 

“If they are prisoners it won’t be any use hollering 
for them,” replied Rawlins sagely. “I guess the best 
plan is just to lie low, keep quiet and sneak in. If 
the boys are alone and it’s their fire we’ll find them 
just as well without calling and if it’s the ‘reds’ fire 
and the boys are not there we’ll spring a surprise.” 

205 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 

A few minutes later the boat had gained the shelter 
of the trees beyond the bay and, still guided by Sam’s 
almost uncanny instinct or skill, they pushed into 
the nearest channel among the mangroves. On this 
side of the bay, however, there was much more open 
water; the trees were more scattered, and, instead of 
being made up of innumerable creeks flowing through 
dense masses of mangroves, the swamp consisted of 
large lake-like expanses dotted and interrupted by 
narrow belts and isolated clumps of trees. 

They had proceeded for an hour or more and felt 
that they must be approaching the spot where Sam 
had seen the fire when they noticed that the darkness 
was less dense, that there was a subdued light upon 
the water, and that the clumps of trees were sharper 
and clearer. 

‘‘Hanged if the moon isn’t rising!” exclaimed 
Rawlins. “Crickey, it must be near midnight.” 

Mr. Pauling looked at his watch. “It’s after 
eleven,” he announced. “We’ve been searching for 
five hours.” 

“I’ll say those kids are some little travelers!”' 
declared Rawlins. “They must have thought they 
were rowing for a bet to get clean over here.” 

206 


RADIO TO THE RESCUE 


“Ah ‘spec’ tha’ tide made to help them, Chief,” 
remarked Sam. “It makes right strong an’ po’ful up 
these creeks.” 

“Yep, that must have been it,” agreed Rawlins. 
“Hadn’t thought of it before. I’ll bet they got caught 
in a strong current and couldn’t pull against it. 
Hello! What the ” 

Instantly the men stopped rowing. From far 
away, as if from the air itself, came a low throbbing 
vibration, a sound felt rather than heard, and thos^ 
in the boat stared at one another questioningly. 

“Thunder!” suggested Mr. Pauling, in a low tone, 

Rawlins shook his head. “Nix,” he replied 
crisply. “Thunder doesn’t keep up like that and it 
doesn’t throb that way. Sounds to me more like a 
ship’s screw half out of water.” 

“Some bird then,” suggested Mr. Pauling. “Bit- 
tern or owl, perhaps.” 

“I’ll say it’s some bird — if ’tis a bird!” exclaimed 
Rawlins. “What is it, Sam?” 

The quartermaster spat into the water and before 
the Bahaman could reply he remarked: “’Course 
’taint possible. Sir; but if I was a-hearin’ o’ that ’ere 
soun’ an’ was in the South Seas ’stead o’ here in the 
207 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 

West Injies — I’d say as how ’twas a tom-tom, Sir — 
you knows what I means, Sir — savage drum such as 
they uses for a-havin’ of a cannibal feast. Sir.” 

‘‘Well we’re not in the South Seas,” returned 
Rawlins, “and there aren’t any cannibals here. Say, 
what the devil’s the matter with you, Sam?” 

It was no wonder Rawlins asked. The Bahaman 
was staring open-mouthed across the water, his eyes 
rolling, his face drawn and awful fear depicted upon 
his black features. 

“Here, wake up! Seen a ghost?” cried Rawlins, 
shaking the negro roughly. Sam’s jaws came 
together, he licked his dry lips and in terror-striken, 
shaking tones murmured, “Voodoo!” 

Something in his tones, in the way he pronounced 
the one word, sent shivers down his hearers’ backs. 

“Voodoo?” repeated Rawlins, recovering himself. 
^‘What in thunder are you talking about?” 

“Ah knows it!” replied the negro, in a hoarse 
whisper. “Tha’s the devil dance! Yaas, Sir, tha’s 
Voodoo goin’ on!” 

“Well, I’ll be sunk!” ejaculated the diver. “A 
Voodoo dance! By glory! I didn’t think they 
had ’em over here. I’ve heard of ’em in Martinique 
208 


RADIO TO THE RESCUE 


and Haiti, but I never took much stock in the yams. 
Are you sure, Sam?” 

The cowering negro had sunk to his knees in the 
boat. All the long-dormant superstition of his race, 
the soul-racking fear of the occult and supernatural 
which was the heritage of his African ancestors had 
been stirred into being by the throbbing pulsations 
borne through the night, and he was an abject, terror- 
stricken creature, 

Rawlins jerked him to athwart. “Brace up, you 
fool nigger!” he commanded. “No one’s hurting you 
yet! You’re a blamed coward, Sam! What if ’tis 
Voodoo? What in thunder are you scared of?” 

Slowly the negro came back to his senses; shaking 
like a leaf, sickly ashen with fright, he steadied him- 
self. “Ah aint ’fraid,” he stuttered, his tones bely- 
ing his words. “Ah was jus’ flustrated. Chief. But 
Ah don’t mek to meddle with Voodoo, Chief. Better 
go back, Chief.” 

“You bet your boots we’ll go back — ^not!” declared 
Rawlins. “Fd like right well to see a Voodoo 
as you call it. And if there’s any folks around 
here — black or white, tame or savage, we’re out 
to find ’em and have a pow-wow with ’em. Maybe 
209 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


the boys saw their fire and made for it, and maybe 
the lire’s nothing to do with the tom-tom, and more 
likely than all it’s not a devil dance at all but just 
those blamed Bolsheviks having a vodka spree all on 
their own — celebrating the boys’ capture or some- 
thing.- Come on, men, let’s get a move on.” 

“Perhaps we’d better try to call the boys,” sug- 
gested Mr. Pauling. “Your hint that they may have 
seen the fire, or that they may have heard the drum 
is reasonable, but they are cautious and might be 
near, hesitating to approach the fire or the sound. 
The noise of that drum — supposing it should be the 
‘reds’ and not from a negro dance — would prevent 
others from hearing us.” 

“Sure, that’s a good idea,” agreed Rawlins. 
“Maybe they’re near, right now.” 

As Rawlins spoke, Bancroft was adjusting his in- 
struments and the next instant gave an exultant cry. 

“I hear ’em!” he announced. 

Then: “Tom! Frank!” he called into the 
microphone. “Can you hear me? It’s Bancroft! 
We’re near! We can hear a drum and are making 
for a fire! Where are you? Can you see the fire 
or hear the noise?” 


210 


RADIO TO THE RESCUE 


Faint and thin, but clearly distinguishable, now the 
throbbing rumble of the drum had ceased, Bancroft 
heard Tom’s voice. 

‘We hear!” it said. “Come quick! We don’t 
know where we are, but we’re here by the fire — ^we’re 
prisoners — a lot of savages have us!” 

Bancroft, in a strained voice, repeated the words. 

“Good Lord!” cried Mr. Pauling, “they’re captives 
of those crazy devil-worshipers.” 

“Attaboy!” yelled Rawlins. “Lift her, boys! 
Pull for your lives!” 


CHAPTER XI 


THE DEVIL DANCERS 

P erhaps the two terrified boys swooned, 
perhaps they were literally frightened out of 
their wits. Neither could ever be sure, but 
whichever it was, everything was a blank from the 
moment when they felt the hands of the savage figures 
grasp them until they found themselves surrounded on 
every side by a ring of half -naked men and women in 
the full glare of a huge fire under immense trees. 

But they were unharmed, not even bound, and as 
they realized this their courage in a measure returned 
and they glanced about, still terribly frightened, 
shaking as if with ague, and marveling that they were 
still alive. 

Then for the first time they realized that their 
captors were not Indians. They were hideously 
daubed with paint to be sure, they were nearly nude, 
but they were not bedecked with feathers and their 
black skins and wooly heads left no doubt as to their 
212 


THE DEVIL DANCERS 


identity. They were negroes, mostly coal black, but 
a few were brown or even yellow and the dazed, 
scared boys looked upon them with uncomprehending 
amazement. To them, negroes were civilized, harm- 
less, good-natured people and why these blacks should 
be acting in this savage manner was past all under- 
standing. 

And still more puzzling was the fact that they 
were talking together in a strange, unintelligible 
jargon. To the boys’ minds, all colored people spoke 
English — either with the broad soft accent of the 
American negro or the slurring, drawling dialect of 
the West Indians, and yet here were blacks chattering 
shrilly in some totally different tongue. 

The boys felt as if they had been bereft of their 
senses, as if, by some magic, they had been trans- 
ported to the middle of darkest Africa and they 
wondered vaguely if their fears and worries had 
driven them mad and the whole thing was a 
hallucination. 

But at this moment four more blacks arrived and 
to the boys’ further amazement deposited their radio 
sets upon the smooth, hard-beaten earth beside them; 
These were real; they seemed somehow to link the 
213 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


boys with the outside world, with civilization, and at 
sight of them the boys knew they were not dreaming, 
were not mad. 

And the little cases with their black fiber panels 
and shining nickle-plated knobs and connections 
had a strange effect upon the circle of negroes also. 
With low murmurs and sharp ejaculations they drew 
a step farther from the boys and looked furtively at 
the instruments, while the men who had brought them 
from the boat leaped nimbly away the instant they 
had set them down as if afraid the harmless things 
might bite them. 

“Gosh!” murmured Tom, finding his voice at last. 
“They’re afraid of us!” 

“I believe they are,” responded Frank, who, finding 
that the savage-looking crowd seemed of no mind to 
harm them, had regained confidence. 

Scarcely knowing why he did so, Tom reached 
forward, connected the batteries and turned the 
rheostat. The result was astounding. As the tiny 
filament in the bulb glowed at his touch an awed 
“Wahii!” arose from the negroes, and with one accord 
they retreated several yards. 

“Say, we’ve got ’em going!” exclaimed Tom 
214 


THE DEVIL DANCERS 


jubilantly. “They’re as much afraid of us as we are 
of them. It all gets me, Frank. I wonder ” 

What Tom wondered Frank never knew, for at this 
moment the surrounding blacks uttered a weird wail- 
ing cry and flung themselves upon the ground. 

“Gee!” ejaculated Frank, “look there.” 

Over the prostrated blacks, approaching through a 
lane between their bodies, came an amazing, fantastic, 
awful figure. Naked, save for a loin cloth, painted 
to resemble a skeleton, with great horns bound to his 
head and with a cow’s tail dragging behind him, he 
came prancing and leaping towards the fire and the 
boys, shaking a rattle in one hand and waving a 
horse-tail in the other. 

Speechless with wonder, the boys gazed at him. 
They realized that he was the leader of the crowd, 
a chief probably, and in his fantastic garb they 
recognized a faint resemblance to pictures they had 
seen of wild African tribesmen, but that such a being 
should be here — here in an island in the West Indies 
and only a few miles from railways, cities, great 
sugar mills, wireless stations and even their own sub- 
marine, seemed incredible, monstrous, absolutely 
unbelievable — as dream-like and amazing as the 
215 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


savage-looking figures who had captured them. 

But they had little time to think. Suddenly the 
tom-tom burst forth in thunderous sounds, deep, 
sonorous, blood-curdling, savage, wild, and to the 
deafening “turn — turn, turn, turn — ^tum — turn, turn, 
turn,” the huge homed figure pranced and danced 
about the two boys, chanting a wailing song, keeping 
time to his steps with his gourd-rattle and shaking and 
waving his horse-tail. 

Nearer and nearer he circled, stooping low, leaping 
high, working himself into a frenzy; twisting, sway- 
ing, contorting, while, fascinated, almost hypnotized, 
the two boys watched speechless and rooted to the 
spot. Then, so abmptly that the boys jumped, the 
drum ceased, the dancing figure halted as if 
arrested in mid-air, with one foot still raised, and 
then, with a wild yell, he darted towards the 
boys. 

With a startled cry they cowered away. Surely, 
they thought, he was about to seize them, to kill them. 
But the next instant the man stooped, and grasping 
the shining copper resonance doil whirled it about, 
facing the ring of negroes and waving the coil about 
his head, while, upon the copper wire, the firelight 
216 


THE DEVIL DANCERS 


gleamed and scintillated as though living flames were 
darting from it. 

And then a marvelous, a miraculous thing hap- 
pened. As the gigantic negro slowly swung the coil, 
a great hush fell upon the others and clear and distinct 
in the silence a voice seemed to issue from the black 
box upon the ground. 

‘Tom! Frank!” came the words. 

At the sounds, pandemonium broke loose. With 
a wild, terrified scream the homed man flung down 
the coil and with a tremendous bound burst through 
the circle of onlookers who, screaming and yelling, 
turned and fled in every direction. In a breath, the 
boys were alone. Alone by the fire and their instru- 
ments while, crouching behind trees, flat on the 
ground, wailing like lost souls, the negroes watched 
from a distance with wildly rolling eyes and terror- 
stricken faces. 

But the boys at the time gave little heed to this. 
At the sound of their names from the receiver they 
had been galvanized to life and action. Their 
friends were near, they were calling them! They 
were saved! Leaping to the coil, Frank grabbed it 
up and moved it slowly, until again to Tom’s anxious 
217 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 

ears came the sound of a human voice. “It’s 
Bancroft!” came the words. “We’re near! We can 
hear a drum and are making for a fire. Where are 
you? Can you see the fire or hear the noise?” 

“Can we?” muttered Tom, his sense of humor com- 
ing to him even in his excitement. “I’ll say we can, 
as Rawlins says.” 

Then, scarcely daring to hope that he could send 
his voice through space by the coil, he adjusted the 
sending instruments and called into the transmitter. 

“We hear!” he cried. “Come quick! We don’t 
know where we are, but we’re here by the fire — ^we’re 
prisoners — a lot of savages have us!” 

Breathlessly Tom listened. Had they heard? 
Would the resonance coil — that marvelous instru- 
ment which had worked the miracle — act as a sending 
antenna? Tom wondered why they had never tried 
it, why they had been so stupid, why it had never 
occurred to them. Had Bancroft heard? Would 
they come? All this flashed through his mind with 
the speed of light. And then came another thought. 
Of course they’d come. Even if they had not heard 
they would come. Bancroft had said they were mak- 
ing for the fire. They would be there anyway and as 
218 


THE DEVIL DANCERS 


Tom realized this a tremendous load lifted from his 
mind. Whether or not their coil had served to send 
the waves speeding through the ether, they were sure 
of being rescued. But the next instant a still greater 
joy thrilled him. Again from the receiver came 
Bancroft’s voice. “Hold fast!” it said, “we’re com- 
ing! We hear you!” Even Frank had heard. 

The boys’ tensed strained nerves gave way. The 
coil dropped from Frank’s hand, he staggered to Tom’s 
side and, throwing their arms around each other, 
the two burst into wild hysterical laughter. Suddenly 
they were aware of some one speaking near them. In 
their wild delight, the terrific reaction, they had for- 
gotten their captors, had forgotten the weird dancer 
whose act had saved them. But at the low moaning 
voice close to them they came back to earth with a 
start and wheeled about. Within a few paces, his 
head bobbing up and down against the ground, flat on 
his stomach, was the giant negro, and from his lips, 
muffled by their contact with the earth, came the 
pleading wail which had roused the boys. 

“What on earth does he want?” asked Tom, who 
could make nothing of the words. 

“I don’t know, but he’s scared to death like all the 
219 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


others,” replied Frank, “and I don’t wonder. That 
voice from the phones was enough to scare any 
savage. I think he’s begging forgiveness or some- 
thing.” 

“Gosh! I wish he understood English,” said Tom, 
and then, in a louder voice, “Here, get up!” he 
ordered. “Can you speak English?” 

Slowly and hesitatingly the man raised his wooly 
head and with wildly rolling eyes gazed fearfully at 
the boys. His lips moved, his tongue strove to form 
words, but no sound came from him. So abject, so 
thoroughly terror-stricken was his appearance that 
the boys really pitied him, but now, at last, he had 
found his voice again. 

“Messieu’s!” he pleaded. “Messieu’s! Moi pas 
save. Moi ami, Beke. Ah! Ai! Beke no un’stan’. 
Moi spik Eenglees liddle. Moi mo’ sorry! Moi 
fren’ yes! Moi no mek harm Messieu’s! Ai, Ai! 
Moi mek dance, moi people mek fo’ Voodoo! No 
mek fo’ harm Beke! Pa’donez Moi, Messieu’s!” 

“Gosh, I can’t get it!” exclaimed Tom. “He’s ask- 
ing us to forgive him and wants to be friends, but what 
he means by ‘Beke’ and ‘Voodoo’ and those other 
words I don’t know. But I’m willing to be friends.” 

220 


THE DEVIL DANCERS 


Then, addressing the still groveling negro, ‘‘All 
right!” he said. “Get up. You’re forgiven. We’ll 
be friends. But stop bumping your head on the 
ground and take off those horns. You give me the 
shivers.” 

Whether the devil-dancer understood more than 
half of Tom’s words is doubtful, but he grasped the 
meaning and with unutterable relief upon his black 
face he grinned and tearing off his fantastic head- 
dress cast it into the flames and rose slowly to his feet. 

As he did so, his watching companions also rose 
and edged cautiously from their hiding places, but 
still keeping a respectful distance and eyeing the 
black radio sets with furtive, frightened glances. 
Very evidently, to their minds, these white boys were 
powerful Obeah men, they possessed magic of a sort 
not to be despised or molested, and with the primitive 
man’s simple reasoning they felt that to propitiate 
such powerful witch doctors was the only way to 
insure their own safety. Although, to the boys, they 
had appeared savages yet, had Tom and Frank 
happened upon them at any other time, they would 
have found nothing at all savage about them. 
Indeed, they would never have had reason to think 
221 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


them other than happy-go-lucky, good-natured colored 
folk, harmless and as civilized as any of the West 
Indian peasantry, for they were merely French West 
Indian negroes, and aside from the fact that they 
spoke only their native Creole patois were indistin- 
guishable from others of their race. But like the 
majority of the French negroes they were at heart firm 
believers in Voodoo and Obeah and when worked into 
a fanatical frenzy at one of these African serpent- 
worshiping orgies they became temporarily trans- 
formed to fiendish savages, reverting to all the wild 
customs and ways of their ancestors and drawing the 
line only at actual cannibalism. 

But of all this the boys knew nothing. They did 
not dream that such people or such customs existed, 
and they could not fathom the reasons or imderstand 
what to them were the mysterious and almost incred- 
ible sights they had witnessed. 

And of a far more important matter the boys were 
equally ignorant. Had they but known, they would 
have thanked their lucky stars that they had stumbled 
upon the Voodoo dancers and, had they been able to 
understand and speak Creole and thus been able 
to converse with the negroes, they would have nx^de a 
222 


THE DEVIL DANCERS 


discovery which would have amazed them even more 
than the savage dance and the remarkable results 
brought about by their radio instruments. 

But being unable to carry on any but the most 
limited conversation, the boys sat there by the fire 
waiting for the sound of the expected boat and sur- 
rounded by the colored folk who now had discarded 
their paint and fantastic garb and were clothed in cal- 
ico and dungaree. Even the chief, or rather the 
Obeah man, was now so altered in appearance that the 
boys could scarcely believe he was the same being who 
had pranced and danced with waving horse-tail and 
rattlebox before them and when, timidly and half 
apologetically, he brought them a tray loaded with 
fruit and crisp fried fish with tiny rolls of bread 
wrapped in banana leaves, they decided that it must 
all have been some sort of a masquerade and that 
their imaginations had filled them with unwarranted 
and ridiculous fears. 

They were terribly hungry and never had food been 
more welcome; both boys ate ravenously. 

“He’s a good old skate after all!” declared Tom, 
nodding towards the big negro who sat near. “I 
guess they were just trying to scare us.” 

223 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


‘‘Well, they succeeded all right,” replied Frank. 
“Say, I thought we were going to be roasted and eaten 
when they grabbed us.” 

“Yes, but our radio scared them a lot worse,” said 
Tom. “Gosh! that was wonderful, the way the old 
boy grabbed up the coil and those words came in just 
right, ni bet Dad’s worried though. We ought to 
call them and tell them we’re all right.” 

“Golly, that’s so!” agreed Frank. “I’d forgotten 
we hadn’t.” 

Still munching a mouthful of food, Frank rose to 
pick up the coil, but at that instant several of the 
negroes jumped up, their voices rose in excited tones 
and they turned wondering faces toward the water- 
side. At the same instant the boys distinctly heard 
the splash of oars. 

“They’re here!” yelled Tom, and with one accord 
the two rushed towards the landing place. 

Before they had reached it a boat shot from the 
shadows, its keel grated on the beach and LIr. Pauling 
and Rawlins leaped out, each with a rifle in his hands, 
while behind them, armed and ready for battle, came 
Sam, Bancroft, the quartermaster and Smemoflf. 

But as the shouting, laughing boys dashed toward 
224 


THE DEVIL DANCERS 


them, free and unharmed, the gun dropped from* Mr. 
Pauling’s hand and clattered on the pebbles and the 
next instant he was clasping the boys in an embrace 
like a bear’s. 

Behind the boys, gathered in little knots and 
chattering excitedly like a flock of parrots, the 
surprised negroes had gathered at the edge of the 
forest and as Rawlins stared at them and then at the 
boys a puzzled expression was on his face. 

‘‘Say, what’s the big idea?” he demanded, as the 
boys capered and danced about, talking and laugh- 
ings “You said you were the prisoners of savages 
and here you are free as birds and no sign of a 
savage. Just a bunch of ordinary niggers. It gets 
me!” 

“But we thought they were savages,” Tom tried to 
explain. “And we were prisoners.” 

Then in hurried, disjointed sentences the two boys 
related the gist of their story while the others listened 
in amazement. 

“Hello!” cried Rawlins. “Is this the old Bally- 
hoo coming?” 

As Rawlins spoke, the big negro was approaching 
and with a rather sickly grin on his face he spoke to 
225 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


the new arrivals in his odd jargon of Creole and 
broken English. 

“Yep, I guess so!” grinned Rawlins. “Here you, 
Sam. You’ve lived in the French Islands. Can you 
understand this bird?” 

Sam, still suspicious and with the memory of Voo- 
doo and devil dancers’ tom-toms in his mind, stepped 
forward. 

“Yas, sir. Chief,” he replied, “Ah can talk Creole, 
Chief.” 

“Well, get busy and spiel then,” Rawlins ordered 
him. “Ask him what he says first and then we’ll 
give him the third degree for a time.” 

Rapidly Sam spoke to the other in Martinique 
patois and at the sounds of his native tongue the 
other’s face brightened. 

“He says he’s sorry,” Sam informed the waiting 
men and boys. “He says he’s a mos’ good friend an’ 
tha’ young gentlemen were safe from molestation. 
Chief. He says he an’ his people were makin’ to have 
a spree. Chief, an’ thought as how the young gentle- 
men were enemies, at the first. Sir. He mos’ humbly 
arsks yo’ pardon an’ forgiveness. Chief.” 

“All right,” said Rawlins. “He’s forgiven. Ask 
226 


THE DEVIL DANCERS 


him if we can stop here for the night and if he has 
anything to eat. Fm famished and ITl bet the others 
are. It’s nearly morning.” 

In reply to Sam’s queries the negro, who Sam now 
informed them was named Jules, assured them that 
e(verything was at their disposal and with quick orders 
in patois he sent a number of the women scurrying 
off to prepare food. Leading the way, he guided the 
party to a cluster of neat, wattled huts in a small 
clearing and told them to make themselves at home. 

Then, the first excitement of their meeting over, 
the boys began to give an intelligible and sane account 
of their adventures. 

As they told of the submarine and their spying on 
the men Mr. Pauling uttered a sharp exclamation and 
Rawlins made his characteristic comment. 

‘T’ll say you had nerve!” he cried. ‘‘Too bad 
they saw you though. Now they know we’re here.” 

“Not necessarily,” declared Mr. Pauling. “They 
may have seen that the boat contained merely two 
boys and they may have thought them natives or from 
some vessel. They probably know where the de- 
stroyer is and they imagine our submarine is lying 
at the bottom of the Caribbean. In that case they 
227 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


would hardly connect Tom and Frank with members 
of the Service. Unless they have heard our calls to- 
night I doubt if the boys’ presence alarmed them.” 

“That may be so,” admitted Rawlins, “and by the 
same token if they heard us to-night it wouldn’t scare 
’em. They’d think ’twas some of the boys’ friends 
searching for ’em, same as ’twas. We didn’t say 
anything that would give them a hint and radio’s too 
common nowadays to mean much — as long as it’s 
not under-sea stuff. By glory! Perhaps we can 
get ’em yet. Can you find that place again, boys?” 

“I don’t see how we can,” replied Tom. “We were 
too scared to notice where we went and we haven’t 
any idea where we drifted wkh the tide while we 
slept.” 

“That’s dead rotten luck,” commented Rawlins. 
“But by the Great Horn Spoon we can find ’em if 
they’re here! This swamp’s not so everlastingly big 
and a sub can’t hide in a mud puddle. I’ll bet my 
hat to a hole in a doughnut we find ’em!” 

“But who do you suppose that man on the bank 
was?” asked Tom. “He didn’t look like a ‘red’ or a 
Russian or a crook. He looked like a real gentle- 
man.” 


228 


THE DEVIL DANCERS 


Mr. Pauling hestitated a moment. “Boys,” he 
said, lowering his voice, “that was the man that 
of all men we want. That was the head, the brains, 
the power of the whole vast organization. The man 
who has schemed to overturn nations and carry a 
wave of fire and blood around the world! He is the 
arch fiend, the greatest criminal, the most coldly cruel 
and unscrupulous being alive! He is the incarnation 
of Satan himself!” 

The boys’ eyes were round with wonder. “Gosh!” 
exclaimed Tom. “Gosh!” 

“Jehoshaphat!” cried Frank. 


CHAPTER XII 


SMERNOFF PAYS HIS DEBT 

W HILE the boys had been relating the story 
of their astonishing experience, Sam 
had been talking with Jules and other 
members of the village. Now, as some of the women 
approached bearing trays of food for the strangers, 
he rose and, accompanied by Jules, walked over to the 
hut where the boys and the others were seated. 

‘‘Ah been havin’ a extended conversationin’ with 
Mr. Jules,” the Bahaman announced, in his odd 
stilted manner which invariably amused the boys, 
“an’ Ah’s fo’med the opinion that th’ info’mation 
he’s imparted is mos’ highly important an’ wo’thy o’ 
consideration. Chief.” 

“Yes, well, what is it, Sam?” inquired Mr. Paul- 
ing as he helped himself to the smoking viands. 

But at Sam’s first words Mr. Pauling, and even 
the famished Rawlins, forgot all about their hunger 
and the appetizing food before them, for the Baha- 
230 


SMERNOFF PAYS HIS DEBT 

man’s story was to the effect that Jules and his fellow 
French West Indians were just as keen on getting the 
“reds” as were Mr. Pauling and his party. Accord- 
ing to Jules’ tale, a number of their friends and mem- 
bers of their families had settled on Trade Wind Cay 
and had been living a peaceful happy life, raising 
goats, fishing and cultivating tiny garden plots, when 
a party of white men had arrived and without warn- 
ing or reason had butchered the West Indians and 
burned their homes, exactly as Smernoff had de- 
scribed when questioned in New York. 

It was not this story of cold-blooded massacre which 
was of such intense interest to the Americans, but the 
fact that Jules calmly informed them that he not only 
knew where the “devil boat” was hidden, but that he 
could actually lead them to the cave where the mur- 
derers lived. 

“Phew!” whistled Rawlins. “I’ll say you tumbled 
into the right camp, boys! So old Frenchy here’s 
onto their hangout! If that isn’t the all-firedest piece 
of luck! Lead us to ’em, old sport, lead us to ’em!” 

“By Jove! if it’s true everything is coming our 
way,” declared Mr. Pauling, “but let’s be absolutely 

sure first. Ask him how he knows his friends were 
231 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


killed, Sam. And why he has not complained to 
the authorities and demanded justice. Ask him why, 
if it is true and he knows where these men live, he 
has not tried to avenge his friends’ death. Ask him 
what they look like, tell him to describe some of them 
and the ‘devil boat’ as he calls it.” 

Sam turned and began talking to Jules and the 
others in patois. 

“Well, true or not I’m going to have grub,” de- 
clared Rawlins. “I don’t eat with my ears, though 
I’m almost sorry I can’t, I’m that hungry.” 

For several minutes the negroes chattered and ges- 
ticulated, their voices often rising excitedly and ve- 
hemently. Then, at last, Sam seemed to be satis- 
fied and addressing Mr. Pauling explained that Jules 
said that two men had escaped from the Cay. They 
had been fishing and when returning, saw the mas- 
sacre and realizing resistance was hopeless got away 
from the place in their boats unseen. He then went 
on to state that Jules had complained to the Domini- 
can authorities, but had been laughed at; strange 
negro squatters — in the minds of the Dominicans — 
were of too little consequence to bother with and had 
no legal standing; and moreover, Trade Wind Cay 
232 


SMERNOFF PAYS HIS DEBT 


did not belong to Santo Domingo. In fact, it was a 
sort of No Man’s Land claimed by Haiti, Santo Do- 
mingo, the Dutch and a British corporation and its 
real ownership had never been settled. Jules and his 
followers had never avenged their friends merely be- 
cause they feared to injure any white man knowing 
that summary arrest, a farcical trial and death would 
follow and so, as the next best thing, they had worked 
spells, had placed Obeah and had danced Voodoo in 
the vain hope of bringing disaster on their enemies. 
Indeed, Jules declared that their dance of that night 
had been for this purpose and that when the boys had 
first arrived the negroes had felt sure that their 
heathen gods had delivered their enemies into their 
hands, but that the ‘‘devil box” had spoken in 
English and they knew their enemies used another 
tongue. 

Jules’ description of the submarine was too accu- 
rate to leave room for doubt that he had seen it and 
the boys, at least, were convinced that he had seen 
the “reds” when Sam repeated Jules’ description of 
the red-bearded giant, the dark man with the earrings, 
the thin fellow with the Kaiser-like mustache, and 
several others. 


233 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


‘T’U say he’s got a line on ’em, all. right!” de- 
clared Rawlins, as Sam finished his translation of 
Jules’ description and statements, ‘‘and by glory! 
I’d hate to be in their shoes if these buckos ever get 
their hands on ’em. Say, did you notice that one 
of the buntoh he described would be Smemoff to a 
‘T.’ Wonder if any of ’em recognized him?” 

“By Jove!” ejaculated Mr. Pauling. “I hope not. 
I’d forgotten he was one of the murderers. If they 
see him and recognize him we’ll be looked upon as 
spies and enemies. Better run down and warn him, 
Rawlins. He’s in the boat, asleep probably. Tell 
him to keep his face hidden or to daub it with mud 
or anything and tell the quartermaster to see that he 
does it.” 

Rising slowly and stretching himself as if nothing 
unusual had occurred, Rawlins strolled off towards 
the landing plate while Mr. Pauling kept Jules and his 
friends busy with questions and suggesting plans by 
which they could aid the Americans. 

When the negroes discovered that Mr. Pauling and 
his friends were looking for the murderers and would 
make them prisoners if found, they were highly de- 
lighted, and Jules assented instantly to guiding the 
234 


SMERNOFF PAYS HIS DEBT 

Americans to the cave and the submarine and offered 
to- bring a number of his men along to help. 

They were still discussing these plans and Rawlins 
had almost reached the edge of the clearing when a 
shot rang out, there was a savage yell, and the next 
moment Smemoff appeared at the edge of the trees, 
waving a pistol in his hand and backing away as 
from an unseen assailant. 

The next instant, he leveled his pistol, there was a 
flash, another report and then, before the wondering 
onlookers could move, before they could utter a cry, 
a figure hurled itself from behind a tree. There was 
a flash of descending steel, a dull thud, and the Rus- 
sian plunged forward on the ground. Standing over 
him, whirling his bloodstained machete about his 
head and yelling in fiendish glee was a huge gaunt 
negro. 

With two bounds Rawlins was upon the man from 
behind; before another blow could fall he had pin- 
ioned his arms in a vise-like grip and as the others 
raced towards the scene of the tragedy Rawlins strug- 
gled and strained to wrest the deadly machete from 
the negro’s grasp. 

Mr. Pauling was the first to reach SmernoflF’s side. 

235 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


That the fellow was mortally wounded was evident at 
a glance. Across neck and shoulder extended a deep, 
gaping gash that had almost severed the head, but the 
man was still breathing and Mr. Pauling bent over 
him. 

Suddenly the Russian’s piglike eyes opened and 
into them flashed a look of such malignant, unspeak- 
able hatred that Mr. Pauling drew back. As he did 
so, the gasping, dying man hissed a curse between 
his blood-covered lips, and with a last superhuman 
effort drew up his arm, aimed the pistol at Mr. Paul- 
ing’s head and pulling the trigger dropped back dead. 
So close to Mr. Pauling’s face was the weapon that 
the blast of blazing powder singed his hair and filled 
his eyes with acrid, smarting smoke and burnt pow- 
der and with a hoarse, choking cry he reeled back- 
ward. But before the horror-stricken boys could 
cry out he was upon his feet, wiping his eyes, cough- 
ing, shaken, but unhurt. Death had missed him by the 
fraction of an inch, by a split second. Smemoff 
had waited a thousandth of a second too long to 
wreak his treachery; death had robbed him of his 
vengeance; life had flown from him at the very 
instant he had pressed the trigger and he had paid 
236 


SMERNOFF PAYS HIS DEBT 

his debt without adding another to his long list of 
crimes. 

It had all happened in the twinkling of an eye. 
From the moment when Smemolf’s first shot had 
startled them until he had breathed his last, not half 
a minute had elapsed and now all was over. The 
negro who had settled his score with the murderer of 
his family no longer resisted Rawlins, but stood re- 
garding the mutilated body of the Russian with much 
the same expression that a hunter might wear when he 
has brought down a tiger or a lion. Sam was 
trying to convince Jules that Smernoff was a prisoner 
who had escaped; Bancroft and the boys were hover- 
ing about Mr. Pauling striving to make sure that he 
was not even scratched; and Rawlins was explaining 
matters to the quartermaster who had come from the 
boat on the run at sound of the shots. 

‘T’U say he was a dirty skunk!” declared Rawlins, 
“And I thought he was straight and reformed. Guess 
once a ‘red’ always a ‘red.’ Blamed if I ain’t sorry 
I didn’t let him drift. By glory! for all we know 
he’s been tipping his friends off by radio or some- 
thing. Well, that’s that for him.” 

Then, turning towards the negro executioner, he 
237 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


gave that individual the surprise of his life by slap- 
ping him heartily on the back. 

“Guess you saved us the trouble!” he cried to the 
amazed man who had expected nothing short of be- 
ing summarily killed for taking a white man’s life. 
“Here, shake!” 

Although the negro understood not a single word, 
yet Rawlins’ tones and gestures were unmistakable 
and with a surprised grin he seized the diver’s out- 
stretched hand and pressed it firmly. 

“I guess he’ll be a good boy to have along with us,” 
Rawlins commented, as he picked up Smemoff’s pistol 
and pocketed it. 

“Rum lot, them Russians,” remarked the quarter- 
master as he spat contemptuously into the bushes and 
regarded Smernoff’s body impartially. “I never 
trusted of him. Sir, and I kept me weather eye on 
him. I’m thinkin’ he no more than got his reward, 
Sir.” 

The boys, now that they were convinced that Mr. 
Pauling was unharmed, glanced at the dead Russian 
and turned away with a shudder. 

“Just the same I’m rather sorry for him,” declared 
Frank. “Of course he was a beast and tried to kill 
238 


SMERNOFF PAYS HIS DEBT 


you, Mr. Pauling, but somehow it seems terrible to 
see a man cut down that way!” 

“Death’s a terrible thing in any form,” said Mr. 
Pauling as he led the boys away. “But don’t waste 
pity on him, Frank. He was a murderer many times 
over and would have ended on the gallows or in the 
electric chair if he had not met death here. He richly 
deserved his fate and you cannot blame the negro for 
killing him. I thank God that his dying effort to 
murder me was frustrated by his own violence.” 

Sleep was out of the question after the exciting 
events and the final tragedy of the night, and now the 
first faint light of dawn was showing in the east. 

“We’ll start as soon as it’s light enough,” an- 
nounced Mr. Pauling. “Jules and a few of his men 
will go along. He’d like to send a crowd, but they’re 
of no use. They have no arms and I have no inten- 
tion of taking any chances or undue risks. I wish to 
locate the submarine and the hiding place of these 
men. There is a remote possibility that we may take 
them unawares or find but a few there, but I trust 
mainly to locating them, then sending for Disbrow 
and his bluejackets and attacking the rascals’ lair 
with an overwhelming force.” 

239 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


“Well, of course you know best,” assented Raw» 
lins. “But personally. I’d like to take along this 
bunch of wild men and sail into those ‘reds.’ I’d 
back these bush niggers with machetes against any 
sneaking, bomb-throwing Bolsheviks that ever grew 
whiskers.” 

“Undoubtedly,” smiled Mr. Pauling, “but I’m not 
leading any party into peril with the boys along.” 

“Yes, you’re dead right there,” agreed Rawlins 
earnestly. “Some one would most likely get hurt 
and we can’t risk the boys. Well, any time you say 
the word, I’m ready.” 

Half an hour later, the party set forth. Jules 
with four men — among them the powerful negro who 
had cut down Smernoff — ^led the way in a narrow 
dugout and Rawlins chuckled as he noticed that every 
man carried a naked, razor-edged machete beside him 
and that two were armed with old muzzle-loading 
guns. Unknown to Mr. Pauling, he had slipped Jules 
the Russian’s pistol and he felt confident that, should 
occasion arise, the Martinicans would, as he put it, 
“give the ‘reds’ some jolt.” 

Silently as ghosts, the West Indians paddled 
through the waterways of the vast swamp, following, 
240 


SMERNOFF PAYS HIS DEBT 


with unerring instinct, the channels and leads they 
knew, but leaving the white men hopelessly confused 
as to the direction in which they were traveling. 

They had proceeded steadily for more than two 
hours, the sun was high in the heavens and the boys 
were wondering how on earth they could have drifted 
so far while they slept, when Jules’ canoe swung 
sharply to the left, his men ceased paddling and an in- 
stant later it grated upon a low clay bank with the boat 
close behind it. 

With a signal for silence and caution, Jules stepped 
ashore, gave a few whispered orders to his men, and 
led the way up a narrow, almost invisible trail. 

Close at his heels followed Rawlins, Mr. Pauling, 
the two boys and Sam, while the quartermaster and 
Bancroft remained in the boat beside the canoe in 
which Jules had left two of his men. 

“Guess there won’t be any fighting just yet,” Raw- 
lins remarked to himself. “Just a bit of scouting 
likely.” 

Noiselessly as shadows the negroes slipped along 
the trail with the leather-shod white men striving to 
‘ nake as little sound as possible and ever climbing 
tigher and higher up the steep hillside. Finally, af- 
241 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


ter ten minutes’ steady walking, Jules halted, 
crouched down and crawled forward on all fours, sig- 
naling for the others to do the same. 

As they reached his side they found themselves 
at the summit of a high hill with a precipitous side 
facing the swamp and thus leaving an unobstructed 
view of all below and before them, while they were 
effectually hidden among the dense growth of ferns 
and broad-leaved plants. 

Jules pointed and in a low whisper muttered “devil 
boat!” Hemmed in by the labyrinth of mangroves 
and winding channels, and apparently completely 
surrounded by the swamps, was a large lagoon and 
towards the side nearest them a large dark object 
loomed above the placid water. 

All this they took in at a single glance. Before 
them, there upon this hidden lagoon within the fast- 
nesses of the mangrove swamps, was the long-sought 
submarine. 

“Well, I’ll be jiggered!” exclaimed Rawlins under 
his breath. “Blamed if the darned sub isn’t sunk!” 

“Sunk?” repeated Mr. Pauling inquiringly. 
“What do you mean?” 

“Don’t you see?” muttered the diver. “She’s 
242 


SMERNOFF PAYS HIS DEBT 


wrecked, sunk, on the bottom. Look how she’s keeled 
over. Must be full of water! Look at that smashed 
conning tower; the hatch is open and the water’s half 
over it. Say, I’ll bet that shot of mine bumped ’em 
more than I thought. Must have ripped things loose. 
How the dickens they got in’s a puzzle to me. Must 
have had emergency hatches or bulkheads or some- 
thing. Whatever ’twas the old sub’s done for now. 
Say, they’re trapped! They can’t get away! I’ll say 
that’s luck! By glory, we’ve got ’em right by the 
neck!” 

‘^You’re right,” affirmed Mr. Pauling, after care- 
fully scrutinizing the submarine. ‘‘She’s evidently 
deserted and useless. Yes, they’re certainly trapped 
— that is, unless they clear out overland. As soon as 
we locate them we can summon Disbrow and make the 
raid. They certainly cannot escape by water.” 

Elated at the thought that luck was with them, that 
the “reds” were marooned, and that within a short 
time they would be on their way home with their pris- 
oners, the party followed Jules down the hill to the 
boats. 

“Now for the big secret!” remarked Rawlins as 
they embarked. “If old Uncle Tom here’s got the 
243 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


right dope we’ll be there in time to look in on ’em 
at breakfast. Hope they’ll be at home.” 

Jules grinned, chuckled, and significantly patted his 
keen-edged machete. Only now and then could he 
grasp the meaning of an English word, but he knew, 
with the African’s primitive instinct, what the diver 
was talking about. He had proved the accuracy 
®f his statements by showing them the “devil boat” 
and he rejoiced to think that he would soon see the 
murderers of his friends led away as captives to meet 
their just punishment. 

“You bet!” nodded Rawlins as he noted Jules’ 
gesture, “I’ll say you’d like to use that pig-sticker, 
old boy ; but hold your horses. Don’t go losing your 
head and rushing in where angels fear to tread and 
spilling the beans before they’re ready to serve. Just 
make him savvy that, Sam!” 

“He say he understand, Chief,” replied the Baha- 
man when he had, after some difficulty, translated 
Rawlins’ speech into the limited vocabulary of Mar- 
tinique Creole. “He say he mos’ careful an’ circum* 
spec’. Chief. He quite assimilate the importance of 
carryin’ out yo’ eomman’s mos’ precisely. Chief. 
Ah’ve impressed it upon he an’ he nex’ fr’ens. Yaas, 
244 


SMERNOFF PAYS HIS DEBT 


Sir, Ah’m sure he quite comprehen’s, Chief.” 

Tom chuckled. “You are funny, Sam!” he ex- 
claimed. “If you use as big words in patois as you 
do in English I’ll bet he didn’t comprehen’ a bit.” 

But whether or not Jules understood the importance 
of being cool-headed and obeying orders, it was 
certain that he had assimilated the necessity of 
proceeding with caution and in silence and his up- 
raised hand and low “Psst!” warned the boys that 
even whispers must cease. Very slowly and care- 
fully, avoiding the least splashing of paddles, bend- 
ing low as they passed beneath overhanging branches, 
the negroes crept along the narrow channel — a slen- 
der ribbon of water scarcely wide enough to accom- 
modate the boats — until, when it seemed as if they 
could go no farther, the canoe slipped into a mass 
of lily pads and reeds and Jules, stepping into the 
shallow water, drew it silently upon a shelving bank. 
When all had disembarked, he turned, crouched low, 
squirmed through the fringe of underbrush and with 
the others at his heels came out into fairly open for- 
est. Once more he led them along a game trail, but 
this time the way led up a gently sloping ridge and 
in a few moments he came to a halt. 

' 245 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


Creeping forward, he beckoned to the Americans, 
while his negro companions melted into the shadows. 
Before them was a narrow valley with a small 
stream flowing through the center and directly across 
from where they lay among the bushes was a con- 
ical hill, its farther side lapped by the waters of a 
small semicircular bay or estuary that cut deeply 
into the land. Along the banks of the stream were 
cultivated lands; plots of banner-leaved plantains 
and bananas, small gardens of cassava, beans, yams 
and corn; numerous fruit trees and the dark foliage 
of coffee; while upon the sides of the hill were groves 
of coppery-tinted cacao trees with here and there 
lofty coconut palms towering oyer all. Half -hidden 
in thjB greenery, the roofs fallen in and evidently 
deserted, were the remains of once large buildings; 
a stone bridge spanned the stream, and at the edge of 
the bay were the tumble-down remnants of a dock. 

Evidently, at some former time, the place had been 
a well-kept and prosperous plantation, but now every- 
thing appeared abandoned and deserted, although the 
gardens were carefully cultivated and attended to. 

“Humph!” muttered Rawlins. “Don’t look as if 
our friends lived there.” 


246 


SMERNOFF PAYS HIS DEBT 


Jules whispered a few words to Sam. 

‘‘He says as how tha’ men mek they abidin’ place 
in the hill yonder, Chief,” interpreted the Baha- 
man. 

“In the hill?” murmured Mr. Pauling. “Ah, of 
course, in a cave! But where is the cave?” 

Sam put the question to Jules. 

“Tha’s the entrance. Chief, tha’ dark spot beyon’ 
tha’ clump of cabbage pa’m. Chief,” announced Sam 
in whispers. 

“Well, I’d like to have a closer squint at it,” de- 
clared Rawlins. “I vote we go over and say ‘howdy’ 
to ’em.” 

“Odd that there’s no sign of life or smoke,” com- 
mented Mr. Pauling. “I don’t see a soul. Surely 
they must have a boat.” 

“He says as how tha’ boat goes out an’ in tha’ 
cave by water. Chief,” explained Sam. “Tha’s a’ 
openin’ on tha’ water side also. Sir.” 

“Foxy old guys, eh?” muttered the diver. “Don’t 
intend to be caught in there like rats in a trap. Well, 
I won’t rest easy till I know they’re there. I’ve a 
hunch our birds have flown.” 

“You’ll never get there without being seen — that 
247 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 

is, if there are any men about,” declared Mr. Paul- 
ing. 

‘‘Not down this way, I admit,” replied Rawlins. 
“But we can sneak down around the head of the val- 
ley, keep back of those thick rose-apple trees that 
make that hedge above the yam field and work around 

the base of the hill until ^Thunderation! What’s 

that?” 

From just beyond the brow of the hill, cutting 
through the clear water, leaving a tiny trail of bubbles 
behind it, a small object was moving swiftly from the 
land across the bay. The next instant it was gone. 

“Shark!” declared Mr. Pauling. 

“Shark nothing!” cried Rawlins leaping up. “It’s 
another sub! I’ll be jiggered if they haven’t cleared 
out! Given us the slip! Come on, who’s afraid! 
Atta boy! I’m going to that cave!” 

Before any one could stop him, the diver had burst 
through the foliage and was tearing down the hill- 
side and so contagious is excitement that, without 
stopping to think, Mr. Pauling dashed after him with 
the boys close behind, while Jules and his men, 
thinking apparently that the signal for an attack had 
been given, sprang from their hiding places, and with 
248 


SMERNOFF PAYS HIS DEBT 


waving, flashing machetes and blood-curdling shouts 
boimded down the slope with the quartermaster, blow- 
ing like a porpoise and crashing through the brush 
like a herd of elephants, bringing up the rear. 

The sudden appearance of the company, the flash- 
ing blades, the savage yells, the glint of sun on rifle 
and pistol would have proved most disconcerting to 
any one lurking in the valley or the caves, while the 
noise made by the two-hundred-pound-sailor lumber- 
ing through the dense undergrowth must have sounded 
like the onslaught of a score of men. In fact, it was 
the sudden rush, the surprise, the reckless charge 
which Rawlins had counted on to win the day, for 
he had seen the value of such tactics on the Flanders 
battle front and on one occasion, with but two 
companions, had captured a German machine gun and 
crew without a scratch, by just such methods. 

To reach the bottom of the hill, dash across the 
valley, cross the bridge and rush up the short slope to 
the mouth of the cave took less time than to tell of it, 
but before the bridge was gained Jules and his men 
were beside Rawlins, Mr. Pauling was at his heels, 
and the boys were but a few paces in the rear. Heed- 
less of shots that might come from the cave at any 
249 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


instant, Rawlins and the half -crazed negroes tore up 
the slope, dodged back of the palms, and with a yell 
leaped into the cavern with upraised blades and 
cocked weapons. But not a shot echoed through the 
rocky chamber, not a blow was struck, not a voice 
answered Rawlins’ demand for surrender. The cave 
was empty, deserted, silent as the tomb! 

For an instant Rawlins stood gaping about, while 
the negroes lowered their weapons, drew back a step 
as though afraid, and jabbered excitedly among them- 
selves. Then the diver grabbed off his hat, hurled 
it on ^le floor of the cave and swore volubly and 
vehemently. 

‘‘Of all the rotten luck!” he cried as Mr. Pauling 
and the others reached the cave panting and out of 
breath. “They’ve gone! Vamoosed! Cleared out! 
Given us the slip! That was a sub we saw. Another 
one. They were wise to us.” 

As he spoke, he strode into the cave and the next 
instant gave a shout. “Look here!” he yelled. 
“Regular hang-out! Electric lights, beds, billiard 
tables, and by Jiminy! even a phonograph and a 
piano!” 

It was perfectly true. Just within the entrance of 
250 


SMERNOFF PAYS HIS DEBT 


the cavern, a heavy curtain was hung across and 
beyond this the great, vaulted, subterranean chamber 
was furnished with every luxury and convenience. 
There were no partitions — merely draperies and cur- 
tains of rich tapestry, satin and plush, but no palace 
on earth could boast such a ceiling with its vast arches, 
its thousands of gleaming, snow-white and cream- 
tinted stalactites and no millionaire’s mansion ever 
had such walls of scintillating, multicolored drip- 
stone that gleamed and sparkled like .myriads of jew- 
els in the light of the clusters of incandescent lamps. 

The floor, covered with upjutting stalagmites, had 
been chiseled and chipped smooth, leaving the 
shorter columns as supports for tables, stands for 
rare vases and beautiful statuary, while the great 
columns where stalactites and stalagmites joined were 
surrounded by luxurious cushioned seats and hung 
with pictures. At one side was a grand piano, in a 
comer was a Victrola, and in two smaller chambers 
were brass beds and luxurious bedroom furnishings. 
At every step the boys and their elders exclaimed in 
wonder and admiration at the luxury and richness of 
the furnishings of the great cavern. Beyond the first 
hall was a smaller, narrower chamber, equipped with 
251 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


a huge range and the latest cooking and kitchen 
devices; beyond this was a small connecting cave 
where a dynamo and gasoline motor were installed, 
while far overhead, in the most remote comer, was a 
tiny aperture in the roof. Presently Rawlins, who 
had been nervously and hurriedly searching every- 
where in the hopes of routing out at least one member 
of the gang, gave a ringing cry which instantly 
brought the others to his side. 

‘There’s the secret to the place!” he announced 
triumphantly, pointing down from a ledge of rock 
whereon he stood. “There’s their get-away. I’ll 
say, they’re cleverl” 

At this spot, the floor of the cabin came to an abrupt 
end, dropping in a sheer precipice some fifty feet to a 
huge pool of dark blue water. But from the verge 
of the wall a slender ladder led down, its foot resting 
on a narrow ledge of rock in which several large ring- 
bolts were set. Scattered upon the ledge were coils 
of rope, tackle blocks, a broken oar, some wire cables 
and other boat-gear, while beyond, and so perfectly 
reflected in the glass-like pool that it appeared like 
a complete circle, was an arched opening with a 
sunlit strip of water visible through it. 

252 


SMERNOFF PAYS HIS DEBT 


‘‘Get the idea?” asked Rawlins, as the others gazed 
about. “There’s their dock and there’s where they 
came in and went out with their sub. But not with 
that big one that’s knocked galley west out in the 
lagoon. No, this old boy lived in some style I’ll 
say — didn’t practice all the socialist Bolshevist stuff 
he preached, I guess — and had his own private sub, 
instead of a limousine, tied up handy at his back door. 
Hello! There’s a paper down there! By crickey! 
perhaps they dropped something!” 

Hurrying nimbly down the ladder, Rawlins 
stooped, picked up the bit of paper which 
had caught his eyes and a mystified, puzzled look 
spread over his face. Slowly and with an odd 
expression he climbed the ladder. 

“Hanged if that don’t beat all!” he declared, as he 
gained the top and extended the paper towards Mr. 
Pauling. “It’s a letter, and I’ll be swizzled if it 
isn’t addressed to you!” 

“What?” exclaimed Mr. Pauling as he took the 
envelope. “By Jove! This is amazing!” 

Ripping open the envelope Mr. Pauling drew forth 
a single sheet of paper. One glance sufficed to read 
all that was upon it, for there was but a single line. 

253 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


“Good luck in your search. Sorry not home to 
receive you. Remember Mercedes.” 

There was no signature, but none was needed. 
The words were typewritten and the machine which 
had printed them was the one which had typed the 
inflammatory, revolutionary Bolshevist propaganda 
which had flooded the States. 

Once more the arch criminal had slipped through 
their fingers. But it had been a close shave. 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE TRAMP 


OOKS as if the game’s up,” commented Raw- 



lins, when he too had read the brief message. 


^ ^ ‘‘Guess they held the last trump. Well, I 

suppose we might as well be getting back to our folks 
— they’ll begin to think we’re lost as well as the 


boys.” 


“Yes,” agreed Mr. Pauling. “There’s nothing 
more we can do until we get some hint or clue to 
where they’ve flown. But we’ll have to destroy this 
lair before we leave. It seems a terrible waste and 
a shame to do it, but I don’t intend having thenr come 
back after we go. We can bring some explosives 
from the submarine and blow the place up.” 

“No need to do that,” declared Rawlins. “Just 
tell Jules and his gang here to help themselves and 
there won’t be much left for the Bolsheviks, if they do 
come back. When they get through looting they can 
build a rattling big fire in here and that’ll finish it. 


255 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 

It’s limestone and after it’s heated it’ll crumble to 
bits.” 

‘‘Good idea!” replied the other. “Sam, tell Jules 
that he and his men are welcome to anything they want 
in the cave. But make him promise to build a huge 
fire inside after they’ve taken what they want.” 

As Sam interpreted this to Jules, the latter’s eyes 
fairly bulged with wonder and a wide grin spread 
across his countenance as it gradually dawned upon 
him that the white man had made him a present of 
all these treasures. Already, in his mind’s eye, he 
could picture the dusky belles of his village strutting 
about in gowns of silk and satin brocades, he 
could see their earthen jars and battered iron pots 
giving way to those shiny cooking utensils, he could 
imagine how dressed up his huts would be with those 
deeply cushioned chairs, the pictures and the statues. 

“I’ll say he’ir be heap big chief now,” chuck- 
led Rawlins, as he saw Jules’ eyes roaming greedily 
over the furnishings as if at a loss what to seize 
first. “And say, won’t it be a scream when some chap 
comes along and finds a bunch of French West Indian 
niggers all dolled out with billiard tables, grand 
pianos and marble Venuses!” 

256 


THE TRAMP 


Then, a sudden whimsical idea seized him, and 
grasping Jules’ arm, he exclaimed, “Here, old sport, 
come along and see what you think about this for a 
devil box.” 

As he spoke, he led the negro towards the Victrola, 
but at the words “devil box” the black’s eyes took on a 
frightened look and he drew back. 

“Oh, it’s all right!” Rawlins assured him, “it won’t 
bite.” 

Still hesitating, but somewhat reassured by the 
diver’s tones, and putting on a brave front, Jules 
accompanied Rawlins and stood silently watching as 
the latter wound up the machine, placed a record 
under the needle and set it in motion. But as the 
first sounds of a singer’s voice burst from the horn, 
Jules uttered a frightened yell and leaped away. 

Every one burst into a hearty roar of laughter and 
the negro, with a hasty terrified glance about, halted 
in his precipitate retreat, ashamed tc^^exhibit his fear 
before the white men. Then, with the odd, quizzical, 
half -puzzled, ha If -frightened and wholly wondering 
expression of an ape, he leaned forward, turning his 
head first to one side and then the other as he listened 
to the song, peering at the mahogany cabinet as if 
257 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


expecting to see the hidden singer step out at any 
moment. But finding that nothing happened and that 
the others seemed in no dread of the affair, he drew 
nearer and nearer, absolutely fascinated by this new 
form of witchcraft. Never in his life had he beheld a 
phonograph, and while he realized that the “Bekes,” 
as he called the whites, were capable of performing 
almost any miracle or of making most marvelous and 
incomprehensible things, yet this, he was sure, was 
something quite beyond their power and must be some 
most powerful form of Obeah. But evidently the 
“devil” or whatever it contained was most securely 
imprisoned and compelled to serve the white men, and 
when he saw that Sam was not in the least afraid, and 
even picked up and examined the flat, round objects 
that Rawlins drew from the cabinet, he decided that 
this particular devil was even harmless to men of his 
own color. Here indeed was a treasure. With this 
he would be truly a king and he could imagine what a 
sensation he would create when, in the light of the 
Voodoo fire, he ordered the devil in the box to sing 
and talk and produce music. 

His fears had now completely vanished and, 
drawing close to the instrument, he stood absolutely 
258 


THE TRAMP 

fascinated as Rawlins placed record after record in 
the machine. 

“Tell him to try it himself, Sam,” said Rawlins, 
and very reluctantly and gingerly Jules obeyed Sam’s 
instructions, wound the crank, placed a record, and 
uttered a yell of mingled triumph and delight as he 
found the imprisoned devil obeyed him as readily as 
it did the American. 

“Well, he’s all set up for life,” laughed Rawlins. 
“All the rest of the whole shooting match can go to 
blazes as far as he’s concerned. He’ll wear the 
blamed thing out making it work overtime. But let’s 
be going. Sam, tell Jules he and his bunch’ll have 
to show us the way out of here. I’m all twisted and 
couldn’t find the bay in a month of Sundays.” 

But Jules absolutely refused to leave. He had no 
intention of giving his new acquisition any opportu- 
nity of getting away and, as the Americans departed, 
following the other negroes whom Jules had ordered 
to guide them to the bay, the old fellow was squatting 
on his haunches at the mouth of the cavern, a broad 
grin on his wrinkled black face while, from within, 
came the strains of the overture from Faust. 

“Pretty good ringer for old Mephisto himself!” 

259 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


chuckled Rawlins, as they scrambled down the hill 
towards the boats. 

Pushing through the water plants and into the 
narrow channel, the canoe, followed by the boat, 
moved rapidly among the mangroves. Soon a wider 
waterway was reached, and for a time this was fol- 
lowed, then they slipped into a small lagoon com- 
pletely Encircled by an apparently impenetrable bar- 
rier of trees, but, without hesitation, the negroes 
headed their craft across the little lake. With swing- 
ing strokes of their paddles they urged their craft 
forwards with redoubled speed and then, with a 
sharp cry of warning to the white men behind 
them, they crouched low in their dug-out. Straight 
for the dense foliage shot the canoe, there was a 
swaying of low-growing branches, the negroes’ craft 
disappeared from sight and the next instant the boat 
had slipped through the screen of leaves and was 
floating on open water in a dark, tunnel-like passage 
through the trees. Just ahead was the canoe, with 
the negroes again paddling forward. 

“Well I’ll be hanged!” cried Rawlins, “so this is 
their front gate, eh? Wonder how the dickens they 
ever found it!” 


260 


THE TRAMP 


Straight as a canal the channel led and five minutes 
later a second wall of foliage blocked the way. But, 
as before, the canoe was urged ahead and crashed 
through the barrier followed by the boat. As the last 
branches swayed bade into place behind them, the 
boys and their companions glanced about in surprise. 
They were floating upon the broad waters of the bay; 
an unbroken line of close-growing trees without a 
trace of opening stretched in their rear and far ahead 
they could see the row of palms upon the bar which 
marked the hiding place of their submarine. 

‘‘Well, I’ll be shot!” cried Rawlins, as he swept his 
eyes about. “We’ve passed this place a dozen times 
and never knew it. No wonder we couldn’t find their 
hang-out. Why, I thought that was all solid land!” 

A moment later they were pulling, across the open 
bay. The Martinicans had vanished as if by magic 
in the dark green foliage and two miles away were 
their waiting friends. 

Half an hour afterwards they were clambering 
aboard their sub-sea craft and regaling the 
amazed and wondering Henderson with the story of 
their adventures, their discoveries and the escape of 
the men, while below, the quartermaster, surrounded 
261 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


by his mates, was relating a yam which put the Ara- 
bian Nights to shame. 

“All gold an’ jools b’ cripes!” he declared. “With 
a gran’ pianner an’ a funnygraf an’ electric lights. 
Aw, I ain’t yarnin’, ye can ask Mr. Rawlins — an’ 
statooary like them youse sees up to the art muse’ms, 
an’ velvet curtains. Soak me if ’twan’t a reg’lar 
joint! Fit fer a king that’s what ’twas, an’ 
I’ll be blowed if Mr. Pauling didn’t up an’ give the 
whole bloomin’ outfit to a bunch o’ wild Frenchy 
niggers! Stmck me fair ’tween wind and water to 
hear him a-doin’ of it! Blow me if it didn’t, an’ then 
up an’ tol’ ’em to bum the blessed place after they was 
done lootin’ of it! But say! You’d ’a’ bust your- 
sel’s laffin to a-seen that old gazooks of a nigger a- 
squattin’ on his black hams in his ragged dungarees 
a-grinnin’ like a bloomin gorilla an’ a-listenin’ to 
gran’ opery!” 

“Aw, stow it. Bill!” yawned one of the engineers. 
‘Tell that gaff to the marines. Why didn’t ye cop 
some o’ them things if they was there?” 

The quartermaster snorted. “I aint no bloody 
thief o’ a greasy wiper!” he replied contemptuously. 
“Think I’d a-got myself in Dutch by a-swipin’ stuff 
262 


THE TRAMP 


under Mr. Pauling’s nose? But jes’ the same I did 
bring along a bit o’ a sooveeneer. Look a-here, you 
sons o’ sea cooks!” Fumbling in his blouse, the 
quartermaster drew forth a glittering object and 
placed it on the mess table triumphantly. 

“Holy mackerel! Stow me if ’taint a ring!” ex- 
claimed one of the men. “An’ a reg’lar shiner in it! 
What youse goin’ to do with it, mate? Give it to your 
best girl?” 

“None o’ your business,” retorted the quartermaster 
pocketing the ring. “An’ mind youse don’ go blowin’ 
the gaff neither. I picked her up ’longside o’ one o’ 
the beds an’ none the wiser. Might as well be a 
havin’ it as one o’ them black monkeys.” 

While Bill was thus entertaining the crew, the boys 
and their friends on deck were still talking, retelling 
their stories, putting and answering innumerable 
questions and gradually imparting a coherent ac- 
count of all that had transpired to Mr. Henderson. 

Presently Rawlins grasped Tom’s arm and pointed 
towards the hills across the bay. 

“Look there!” he exclaimed. “There goes the 
last of the Panjandrum’s palace!” 

The others turned at the diver’s words and saw a 
263 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


thick column of smoke rising in curling blue clouds 
against the green jungle. 

“Guess old Jules made quick work of looting it.” 
continued Rawlins. ‘‘Say, I can just see the old boy 
and his mates dancing and prancing around to the 
music of that phonograph and watching the place go 
up in smoke. Must do their hearts good! Wonder 
if they’ll learn to play billiards or hammer Jazz music 
out of that piano!” 

“Well, let’s get down to business,” suggested Mr. 
Pauling, when the laughter over Rawlins’ quaint 
conceit had subsided. “I suppose we’d better notify 
Disbrow and leave here. No use of delaying longer. 
The trail is blind now.” 

“I vote we all turn in early and light out to-morrow 
morning,” suggested the diver. “I’m dead tired 
myself and the boys must be all in. They haven’t 
slept since night before last, you know, and it’s 
pretty near sundown now. How about grub, too?” 

This seemed the wisest plan, and as Bancroft sat at 
his instruments rapidly sending a cipher message to 
the destroyer the steward served a belated but hearty 
meal. 

“He’s received the message. Sir,” announced the 
264 


THE TRAMP 


operator as he joined the others. ‘‘Here’s his reply.” 

“H-m-m!” said Mr. Pauling, as he glanced over the 
apparently meaningless figures and letters. “He’ll 
stand in and wait for us in the morning. Hasn’t seen 
any signs of a sub, or anything suspicious.” 

Now that their appetites were satisfied and the ex- 
citement was over all realized how tired, exhausted 
and sleepy they were and gladly sought their bunks at 
an early hour. 

It seemed to Rawlins that he had scarcely closed 
his eyes when he awoke with a start, the sound of a 
shout still ringing in his ears. For a brief instant he 
thought he had been dreaming and then, as the cry 
again echoed through the night, he realized it was no 
dream, that something was amiss, and wide awake 
leaped to the floor. 

The next instant he uttered a yell of shock and 
surprise. Instead of landing on flie rubber mat his 
feet had plunged into cold water! 

“Get up! Wake! Hustle!” he screamed at Ban- 
croft who occupied the other bunk. “The boat’s full 
of water!” 

Without waiting, he dashed from the room, shout- 
ing and yelling, switching on lights and starting the 
265 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


alarm gong as he plunged, splashing, through the 
water that covered the steel plates of the floors. 

Instantly all was in an uproar. Hoarse shouts and 
cries came from the crews’ quarters. The boys, with 
frightened faces and still nfbbing dazed and sleep- 
filled eyes, rushed from their cabin with Mr. Pauling 
and Mr. Henderson at their heels and through the din 
of the clanging gong, the excited questions and 
warning shouts, Rawlins, with the quartermaster by 
his side, hustled the men and boys up the ladder to the 
deck, checking them off one by one as they passed. 

“All up?” demanded Rawlins as a drowsy oiler 
stumbled through the fast-rising water to the foot of 
the ladder. 

“Aye, aye. Sir!” responded the old sailor. “Better 
be -gettin’ aloft. Sir.” 

The water was now up to the men’s hips and as they 
reached the outer air Rawlins and the quartermaster 
found the waves lapping the edges of the deck. But 
perfect order prevailed. The two boats were manned 
and ready and as Rawlins and the sailor sprang into 
them the men bent to the oars and a few moments later 
the boats’ keels grated on the sand beach under the 
ghostly palms. 


266 


THE TRAMP 


“I’ll say we’re lucky!” were Rawlins first words. 
^‘Wonder what in blazes burst loose!” 

But no one could offer an explanation. The man 
who had been on watch and whose cry had roused 
Rawlins declared that the first thing he had noticed 
Rad been that the submarine was settling. The 
engineers insisted that no sea-cock or valve had been 
left open. There had been no blow, shock or 
explosion and, huddled together on the beach, shiv- 
ering and shaken, the men and the boys waited for the 
dawn. Presently a fire was started and the survivors, 
glad of its warmth in the ’chill night air, gathered 
close about it, discussing the disaster, surmising as to 
its cause and' thanking their stars that they had all 
escaped and that help was not far away. 

“If we don’t turn up, Disbrow will suspect some- 
thing is wrong and send a boat in,” declared Mr. 
Pauling. “We won’t have to wait here many 
hours.” 

“Perhaps we could call him,” suggested Mr. 
Henderson. “Are those radio instruments still in the 
boats?” 

“One is.” replied Rawlins. “I noticed it as we 
came ashore.” 


267 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


“But we haven’t any aerial,” said Tom. “The res- 
onance coil was on board the submarine.” 

“I don’t think it matters,” his father assured him. 
“Disbrow’s sure to investigate.” 

“For that matter, we can row out and meet diem,” 
suggested Rawlins. “We’ve got perfectly good 
boats.” 

“Of course,” agreed Mr. Henderson, “although it 
would be more risky than waiting here. Disbrow 
might not sight us and then we’d be worse off.” 

“Yes, we’ll wait here a reasonable time at any 
rate,” declared Mr. Pauling, “Ah, I believe it’s get- 
ting lighter.” 

Very soon the eastern sky grew bright and presently 
there was enough light to distinguish surrounding 
objects clearly. 

“There she is!” exclaimed Rawlins, pointing 
towards the spot where their submarine had been 
moored. “Didn’t go clear under. Too shallow for 
her.” 

Above the water, the top of the submarine’s con- 
ning tower was visible with the slender aerial wires 
faintly discernible in the soft morning light. 

“We’re all right!” declared the diver. “We can 
268 


THE TRAMP 


get that aerial off the sub, rig it up between a couple 
of these palms and get the destroyer here in double 
quick time. But I would like to know what sunk the 
old tub.” 

Acting on Rawlins’ suggestion, the boats rowed 
over to the wreck and the men busied themselves strip- 
ping the aerial from the submarine. By the time this 
was accomplished it was broad daylight and the warm 
sun 'was shining brightly upon the water and beach. 

“Sam,” said Rawlins, turning to the Bahaman who, 
up to his waist in water on the submarine’s deck, 
was unfastening a wire. “What do you think of div- 
ing down and having a look around. Fm blamed 
anxious to know how the old sub got full of water.” 

“All right. Chief,” grinned the negro, dropping 
the wire and stripping off his scanty garments. 
“Ah’ll mos’ surely ascertain. Chief.” 

The next instant he had plunged off the deck and 
all waited expectantly for his reappearance. After 
what seemed a tremendously long interval his wooly 
head bobbed up close to the stem and shaking the 
water from his eyes he swam easily to the submerged 
deck and pulled himself up. 

“Tha’s nothin’ wrong this side. Chief,” he an- 
269 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


nounced as he recovered his breath. ‘‘Ah’ll go down 
tha’ other side an’ have a look.” 

Presently he rose, felt his way along the deck with 
the water to his armpits and reaching a point near 
the bow again dove. 

Again he reappeared near the stem and the satis- 
fied grin upon his face assured Rawlins that he had 
news. 

‘‘Yaas, Sir!” he announced as he drew himself 
onto the boat. ‘‘Ah foun’ it, Chief. Tha’ a big hole 
aft. Chief. Looks like it been bored in tha’ plates, 
Chief.” 

“Well, what in thunder!” cried Rawlins. “Come 
on, Sam, I’m going to have a look. Show me where 
’tis. I’m no fish like you, but I can stay down long 
enough for that.” 

Poising himself on the boat’s thwart with Sam be- 
side him, Rawlins waited for the word and together 
the two figures, one white, one black, plunged into 
the sea. 

Presently the two heads bobbed up side by side and 
breathing hard Rawlins scrambled into the boat. 

“I’ll say it’s bored!” he exclaimed. “Burned! 
Cut clean through with an acetylene torch!” 

270 


THE TRAMP 


The others fairly gasped with amazement. 

“But how could any one burn a hole through steel, 
—under water?” cried Tom. 

“Easy !” retorted Rawlins. “A good torch’ll bum 
as well under water as in air. Used right along by 
divers. It’s those blasted, dumbfoozled ^reds’! I 
can see it all now. They sneaked down here in that 
little sub of theirs, laid on the bottom, sent a diver 
out with a torch and burned the hole. Thought they’d 
drown us like rats in a trap — ^blame their dirty 
hides!” 

“By jove! it doesn’t seem possible,” declared Mr. 
Pauling. “I’m surprised, they ” 

His words were cut short by a shout from Rawlins. 
“Look there!” he fairly screamed, leaping up, and 
pointing towards the bay. “Look at ’em! The low 
down, sneaking swine!” 

All turned instantly towards the bay and at the sight 
which greeted them jaws gaped, eyes grew round with 
wonder and hoarse exclamations of anger, amazement 
and chagrin arose from a dozen throats. 

Traveling swiftly seaward through the calm water 
was a small submarine, her deck just awash, and 
standing upon her superstructure and waving their 
271 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


hands in derisive farewell were two men. One was 
heavily built with a huge red beard, the other slender, 
immaculate in white flannels and with a stiffly up- 
turned, iron-gray mustache. 

The next moment they disappeared in the hatch. 
An instant later only the conning tower showed above 
the water and ere the amazed onlookers could recover 
from their astonishment the placid bay stretched un- 
broken even by a ripple to the distant shores. 

“Mr. Pauling and Mr. Henderson exchanged rapid 
glances. 

“It was!” muttered Mr. Pauling in a low voice. 

The other nodded. “Absolutely!” he rejoined. 

Rawlins, who for once had been rendered abso- 
lutely speechless with surprise, anger and chagrin 
now found his voice. 

“Lively, men!” he shouted. “Get that aerial up 
quick! WeTl nab those devils yet! Get a message 
to Disbrow to go for ’em! Drop depth bombs or 
anything else! He can’t be far off.” 

At his bidding, thoroughly aroused to the necessity 
for action, the men fell to work. Hastily the antennae 
from the submarine was rushed ashore. Up the 
palms scrambled Sam and a sailor and in an incred- 
272 


THE TRAMP 


ibly short space of time the slender wires were 
stretched between the lopped-off tops of the lofty 
trees and the boys adjusted their instruments. Ex- 
citedly they called the destroyer and presently sharp, 
and clear, came back the answering call. 

‘Tell him to watch for a sub,” ordered Mr. Paul- 
ing. “Don’t bother over cipher. Give it to them in 
English. Tell him she’s just slipped out. If he 
sights her sink her, disable her, anything! Drop 
depth bombs if necessary!” 

Then, as the boys hurriedly and excitedly flashed 
these orders to the destroyer and the “dee dee dee 
dah dee” (“we understand”) came back, Mr. Pauling 
continued. “Now tell him our sub has sunk. Have 
him send a cutter for us and tell him to hustle.” 

Slowly the minutes slipped by. Breathlessly, filled 
with excitement, those upon the beach beneath the 
palms listened, expecting each moment to hear the 
distant boom of a gun, the low rumbling roar of an 
exploding depth bomb. But no sound broke the low 
swish of the palm fronds and the soft lapping of the 
waves upon the sand. 

An hour went hy and then, from the direction of the 
bay, came the faint staccato beat of a motor’s exhaust 
273 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


and a moment later a trim navy cutter came into 
view. Shouting and waving their hands, those upon 
the beach attracted the cutter’s attention, it spun 
around, came swiftly towards them and ten minutes 
later was headed seaward leaving the sunken sub- 
marine deserted and alone. 

A mile or two offshore, steaming in great circles, 
was the lean, gray destroyer and as those in the 
cutter ran up the gangway and gained the decks Dis- 
brow met them. 

‘‘Seen anything of that sub!” demanded Mr. Paul- 
ing, ignoring the officer’s cheery greeting. 

“Not a sign,” declared the commander. “Had 
men aloft and been swinging in circles ever since we 
got your message. Haven’t sighted a craft of any sort 
since daylight. Only thing we’ve seen was an old 
Dutch tramp over by Trade Wind Cay.” 

Rawlins, who had just reached the deck, sprang for- 
ward. 

“Dutch tramp!” he cried. “What did she look 
like? Did you board her?” 

“Of course not!” replied Disbrow icily. “Why 
should we? Ordinary tramp painted pea-soup color 
with bands two blue and one yellow, on her funnel.” 

274 


THE TRAMP 


“I’ll say she’s not an ordinary tramp!” exclaimed 
the diver. “If she is, what the blazes is she hangin’ 
around there for? She was there a week ago — ^we 
saw her — and Dutch tramps or any other tramps don’t 
hang around Trade Wind Cay for a week! Rotten 
luck you didn’t board her!” 

“Humph!” snorted Disbrow. “I’d get myself in a 
pretty mess if I boarded every steamer I saw. It’s 
none of my business if a Dutchman wants to kill time 
cruising about here. The sea’s free.” 

“Yes, and I’m beginning to think some naval men 
are blamed idiots!” cried Rawlins, overcome with 
excitement. “I know one that boarded a square-head 
fishing smack and didn’t think ’twas any of his busi- 
ness because she was a Bahaman schooner. Darned 
ne?ar finished us on account of it, too!” 

The commander flushed scarlet. “If you’re going 
to insult me!” he began; but Mr. Pauling inter- 
posed. 

“Here, here, boys!” he exclaimed. “Don’t get ex- 
cited. “We all make mistakes and we’re dealing 
with most elusive and resourceful scoundrels. Raw- 
lins has a hunch of some sort, Disbrow, and his 
hunches are usually right. Now what it is, Rawlins? 

275 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


The sooner we get to an understanding the quicker we 
can act.’” 

“Sorry, old man!” apologized the diver, extending 
his hand to Disbrow who instantly grasped it. “Was 
a bit jumpy, I guess. But that tramp’s got to be over- 
hauled. I’ve an all-fired hunch she’s part of the 
game. They deserted a sub once and took to a 
schooner and I’ll bet my last dollar to a plugged cent 
that that tramp’s just waiting for ’em* now.” 

Disbrow wheeled and gave a crisp order and the 
next moment the destroyer, throbbing and shaking 
like a leaf, a huge wave rising high above her sharp 
bows, was tearing like an express train towards Trade 
Wind Cay. 

As they neared the little islet and rounded its jut- 
ting point, Rawlins gave a cheer. Wallowing slowly 
along, her rust-streaked sides rising and falling 
to the ocean swell, was the tramp, with the flag of 
the Netherlands fluttering at her stem and the 
blue and yellow stripes plainly visible on her fun- 
nels. 

Up to the destroye/s mast fluttered a string of 
bunting, but the Dutchman paid not the slightest heed, 
continuing placidly on his course. 

276 


THE TRAMP 


‘‘Confound him!” exploded Rawlins. “Doesn’t 
mean to stop, eh?” 

“Run alongside and hail him,” quietly ordered 
Mr. Pauling. “I’ll take all responsibility if there’s 
any trouble. But we’ll board that chap if we have 
to fire on him.” 

There was no need of any such drastic measures, 
however. As the destroyer came near and Disbrow^'s 
hail through the megaphone reached those upon the 
tramp, a huge, burly figure appeared upon the bridge, 
waved an arm in assent and a moment later the ill- 
kept vessel lay motionless, as the cutter from the de- 
stroyer bobbed alongside. Over the tramp’s wall- 
like sides dangled a rope ladder and followed by 
Rawlins and Mr. Pauling a white clad ensign 
ran nimbly up and leaped over the battered iron 
rails. 

At the break of the bridge-deck the ponderous 
man loimged upon the rail awaiting them, a big pipe 
projecting from an enormous yellow mustache, a 
weather-beaten cap upon his tow-colored hair and 
greasy, faded blue garments hanging loosely on his 
immensely fat figure. Placidly, with pale, expres- 
sionless blue eyes, he watched the officer and the civil- 
277 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


ians approach and as they drew near slowly withdrew 
the pipe from his mouth. 

“Vat you vellers vant?” he demanded in thick 
greasy tones. “Vat vor you sthob mine shib?” 

The boyish ensign touched his cap. “Compli- 
ments of Commander Disbrow, Sir,” he announced. 
“His orders are to have a look at your papers and 
search the ship if we think necessary. Are you the 
captain?” 

The Dutchman drew himself up in what was a 
ludicrous attempt at dignity. “Yah, me der gap- 
dain!” he rumbled. “But vat de deffil you vellers 
tink? Dondt you know dot der var vas over? Vat 
vor you vant to see mine babers, eh?” 

“Just as a matter of form, Captain,” replied the 
ensign crisply. “Won’t take a minute.” 

For a space, the fat skipper eyed the other suspi- 
ciously. “Ach! All right,” he exclaimed at last. 
“Gum on! Dis vay an’ pe tarn qvick apout id!” 

Rolling like a barge in a gale, the Dutchman led 
the way across the deck and into his disorderly cabin 
under the bridge. Then, rummaging among papers 
and letters, he drew out a package snapped together 
with rubber bands and handed it to the ensign. 

278 


THE TRAMP 


“Seem to be all right,” commented Mr. Pauling, as 
he glanced over the officer’s shoulder with Rawlins 
beside him. “ ‘Steamship Vccn Doerck, 11,345 tons, 
general cargo, Rotterdam for St. Thomas, Hirschfelt, 
master and owner.’ Don’t see an 5 rthing suspicious 
there, Rawlins. Last cleared from Curacao. Health 
and port papers 0. K. Guess your hunch was wrong 
this time.” 

Rawlins scratched his head and looked sheepish, 
but there was still a questioning, puzzled expression 
in his eyes. “Maybe,” he admitted, “but I’d like to 
have a look at his crew. Jusk ask him to line ’em 
up on deck. Ensign.” 

At first, the Dutchman vehemently objected, but 
finally, with a muttered curse in his native tongue at 
the pigheadedness of the Yankees, he ordered his 
second officer to summon all hands on deck. 

Carefully Rawlins, Mr. Pauling and the ensign 
went along the line of dirty faces, checking them off 
by name in accordance with the ship’s papers, but 
they were all there, no more, no less. 

“No use looking under hatches,” declared the en- 
sign who began to feel that he had made a fool of 
himself. “They haven’t been up for a week, I’ll 
279 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


swear.” Then, as an afterthought, he added sarcas- 
tically, “Don’t suppose you’d care to search the en- 
gine room and bunkers?” 

“I’ll say I will!” exclaimed Rawlins, and without 
another word hurried aft. 

A few minutes later he reappeared, grimy, per- 
spiring and greasy. 

“Nothing doing there!” he announced. “Say, ask 
the old boy what he’s been hanging around here a 
week for.” 

Reluctantly the ensign put the question. 

“None of your tamt pizness!” replied the skipper. 
“Put id’s no segret. Ve drobt a sbar offerboard in 
der night an ve been bunding vor id. Ve vasn’t here 
vor a veek — id vas night before ladst ve gum pack.” 

Rawlins raised his eyebrows. “All right. En- 
sign,” he said. “Guess it’s a false alarm. Might as 
well be going.” 

“Sorry to have troubled you. Captain,” said the 
ensign, touching his cap. “Expect you’re not the 
ship we were looking for.” 

The skipper’s only reply was a low, rumbling bel- 
low from his chest and stumping up the ladder to the 
bridge he jerked the bell for “stand by.” 

280 


THE TRAMP 


No sooner were the boarding party again on the 
destroyer than Rawlins beckoned Mr. Pauling aside. 

“You may think Pm an ass, Mr. Pauling,” 
remarked the diver. “But there’s something crooked 
about that Dutchman. He’s a blamed liar in the first 
place, because you know as well as I do he was here 
six days ago. In the second place, can you imagine 
wasting even two days steaming along and hunting 
for a lost spar, and how the blazes could he lose a 
spar? The sea’s been like glass.” 

Mr. Pauling smiled. “You’re unduly suspicious, 
Rawlins,” he declared. “I admit the tramp was here 
a week ago and we saw her, but he may have gone on 
and then come back two days ago searching for a 
spar or he may have lied just because he wouldn’t 
give us the satisfaction of telling us his business. 
No, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with him. 
If you suspect every ship we see we’ll have our hands 
full and every nation in the world will be after our 
scalps.” 

“Well, Mr. Pauling,” replied Rawlins, “I hope 
you won’t be insulted if I say so and I don’t mean it 
that way; but you’re no seaman and you may be a 
mighty good detective on land, but you’re not when 
281 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


aboard ship. That old whale of a Dutchy has been 
anchored there and hasn’t been hunting for a blamed 
thing! And what’s more, he hasn’t been in Curacao 
for a year!” 

“What?” exclaimed Mr. Pauling. “How do you 
know? Explain yourself, Rawlins.” 

“If that cockey little ensign hadn’t been so stuck 
on himself, he’d have noticed it.” declared the diver. 
“Why, the anchor chains were thick with wet mud, 
the steam winch was still hot, there was mud and water 
on deck and some of the crew had fresh mud on their 
jumpers. What’s more, the fires in her furnaces 
hadn’t been going an hour. They’d been banked and 
the ashes were still on the plates where they’d been 
raked out. That old hooker hadn’t been under way 
half an hour when we came up. And now how do I 
know she hadn’t been at Curacao? I’ll tell you. 
The papers looked all right. I’ll admit — Curacao 
stamps and signatures and everything O. K. But 
they were dead crooked. I’ll say! They were a whole 
year old!” 

“Jove!” ejaculated Mr. Pauling, beginning to be 
convinced that Rawlins had groimds for his suspi- 
cions. “How do you know? I saw nothing wrong.” 

282 


THE TRAMP 


Rawlins chuckled. “No, and the old guy didn’t 
expect you would. He or his friends are darned 
clever birds, but they slipped up on those papers. 
They’d changed the date under the signatures, but 
they forgot about the stamps — ^they were canceled 
with a rubber stamp and the date was ’21 not ’22!” 

“Rawlins!” cried Mr. Pauling. “I’ll take it all 
back! You’re a wonder — told you you should be in 
the Service. What’s your idea?” 

“Well, I don’t know just where the Dutchy comes 
in with those reds,” admitted Rawlins, “but I’ll bet 
they’re cahoots somehow. I think we’d better follow 
the boys’ motto — ^hear everything, see everything and 
say nothing and keep the other fellow guessing — I’d 
suggest we trail the old porpoise and see if he does 
go to St. Thomas. If he does, we’ll bob up there 
too. I’m ready to follow along his wake if he wal- 
lows round the world, but St. Thomas is an Amer- 
ican port and we can do pretty near anything we 
like there. If we hang around we may get a line on 
something. We’ve had pretty good luck all to- 
gether and I’ve got a hunch we’re ‘hot’, as they used 
to say when we played hunt the thimble.” 

A few moments later Mr. Pauling was speaking to 
283 


RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA 


the commander in the privacy of the latter’s cabin. 

“You’ll make for St. Thomas, Disbrow,” he said. 
“Keep that tramp within sight, but don’t let her think 
we’re following her. No, don’t ask questions, I don’t 
really know myself. Rawlins has a hunch, and so 
far his hunches have come mighty near being right. 
I’m backing them to the limit.” 


(I) 


THE END 












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